


Chiaroscuro

by Snowflake88



Series: Chiaroscuro [1]
Category: Code:Realize ～創世の姫君～ | Code: Realize - Guardian of Rebirth (Visual Novel), Code:Realize～創世の姫君～ | Code:Realize ~Sousei no Himegimi~ | Code:Realize ~Guardian of Rebirth~ (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Eventual Sex, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23127223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowflake88/pseuds/Snowflake88
Summary: Code: Realize High School AU. Victor Frankenstein is a transfer student from Switzerland, and Headmaster Saint Germain pairs him up with the school's star shooter, Abraham Van Helsing, who needs to gain credits for social service in order to qualify for a scholarship to university. They begin an awkward friendship, but it is not long before Van realises that his feelings go beyond platonic for his new friend who has brought light into his life. How will the oblivious Victor react?
Relationships: Victor Frankenstein/Abraham Van Helsing (Code: Realize)
Series: Chiaroscuro [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164113
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. At Your Acquaintance

**Author's Note:**

> Chiaroscuro - [Italian] an effect of contrasted light and shadow  
> Cover design by Hikari011 (Wattpad /Tumblr)
> 
> This is a high school AU based on UK school systems. Inaccuracies may abound as I am not native to that country.  
> Please note that this story slashes characters from an otome game and turns it into M/M. If slash is not your cup of tea, kindly give this a miss.  
> No copyright infringements intended - I'm merely borrowing the sandbox to play with the characters.  
> Kindly contact me directly to seek permission before translating / re-posting to other websites.  
> Feedback is welcome. I hope you enjoy reading this!
> 
> Join me! I have created a Discord server for this ship; but there are channels available to discuss general Code: Realize stuff too. Come on board at https://discord.gg/ZjdXTtw

It had begun to drizzle, and Abraham Van Helsing, aged 17, glanced up at the sky in irritation. Rainy weather meant inconveniences to his clay shooting practice later, and besides the added burden of cleaning and drying out his beloved handcrafted wooden shotgun, the humidity would make his glasses fog up. If the rain came down hard and fast, it would be hard to watch for hits and misses. More to protect his gear from the rain rather than himself, he unfolded the portable umbrella that he was carrying.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a tall and slender boy carrying a stack of books in his arms. He was hunched over the books, seemingly more concerned about protecting them instead of himself from the elements. His jacket, which looked at once both too large and too short on him, had been pulled forwards to shield his precious cargo.

Rolling his eyes, Van Helsing stepped forward and held out his deployed umbrella. “Here,” he said brusquely, and the other boy jumped probably a foot into the air before looking at him with a startled expression.

Large green eyes rimmed by long eyelashes stared at him past oversized, rimless, rain-speckled glasses, then shifted their gaze to the fabric case that he was carrying on his back. The boy shook his head frantically, sending his copper-brown hair into a fluffy, dishevelled cloud. “It’s a short walk back,” he said, his voice musical, soft and lilting. “Thank you!” Then he was off at a fast trot, slowing down shortly after as if to catch his breath, before disappearing around the corner.

“Hmmm.” Van Helsing stood there awkwardly with his proffered umbrella still extended outwards. The boy had an unusual accent and he wondered where he was from. Shrugging, he righted the umbrella back over himself, then continued on his way.

***

The rain escalated, and just as Van Helsing had predicted, the downpour made it hard to see his hits and misses, and his shotgun was now wet from the rain. He would have to wipe it down as much as he could and dry it out for at least a day, then polish the surface so that it would gleam again. It had been a gift from his late father to him, and he would keep it as well-maintained as he could.

“Nice shooting today, Abraham,” said Jimmy Aleister, the coach of the shooting club. “If you keep up this standard, you’ll be representing the district in no time.”

“Hmmm,” came the non-committal reply, and Aleister sighed. Abraham Van Helsing was his star performer in both pistol and shotgun, but his personality had always been rather prickly. The boy was antisocial to a fault, which reminded him…

“I want to put your name in for a regional competition,” he began carefully, “so I contacted your headmaster. He agreed with me that there is great potential for you, and that this could gain you a free ride to and through university, but there is one area you need to work on first.” He paused, wondering how to phrase the next part, but eventually settled for the direct approach, for it was the best way to deal with Abraham. “He said you need to fulfil the social service aspect first, so he told me to tell you to approach him after your lessons tomorrow.”

“Hmmm,” grunted his star gunner again, and Aleister fought the urge to throttle the stubbornness out of this brooding teenager. “Do consider it, Abraham. A free education stands before you if you do well there. It isn’t something that just anyone can get. You’ll lessen the burden on your family out there on the East End, and you know they gave up so much just so you could study in Central London instead.”

The blond boy was quiet as he began cleaning the drops of water off his shotgun. Finally, his reply came, soft and curt, but betraying the slight Cockney accent he was always embarrassed about nonetheless. “I’ll think about it.”

***

The next day, Van Helsing stood outside the door of his headmaster’s office after he was done with lessons for the day, and upon knocking, was bidden to enter. He was surprised to see the copper-haired boy from the previous day already seated inside. The latter’s jade-green eyes also widened upon his entry.

“Ah, Abraham! You arrived at just the right time. Are you here to talk to me about the social service fulfilment?” Headmaster Saint-Germain said pleasantly. The headmaster was a well-spoken individual, more compelling than strict, and he was not an easy man to handle, so nobody dared to cross him when they could help it. Van Helsing generally tried to fly beneath his radar, but his reputation as the school’s star shooter preceded him, so encounters were inevitable. He nodded wordlessly – the Headmaster knew his more reticent ways.

Saint-Germain gestured to the empty seat beside the copper-haired boy, and Van Helsing took it. “This is Victor Frankenstein,” he said, indicating the former. “He is a transfer student from Switzerland, and he will be with us at least until the end of this year. Victor, this is Abraham Van Helsing. He’s one of our stars on our shooting team.”

Now that the pleasantries were out of the way, Saint-Germain could finally get down to his real objective for summoning the two of them.

“Abraham, your coach Jimmy contacted me about the possibility of signing you up for the regionals. It will be a great step forward for you, and a scholarship is all but guaranteed if you do well. Even qualifying for it alone can boost your shooting standing, but if you want that scholarship, there is a criterion which you have failed to meet so far where social service is concerned,” he said. “You must have at least 40 hours of social service rendered each year, and according to my records, you seem to have sorely neglected this aspect in favour of your training. You only have 3 hours of that so far, and there are only two months left to the regionals.”

He flicked his intense blue gaze over to Frankenstein, who was fiddling nervously with his hands in the other chair and darting anxious glances at the blond youth beside him. “And that’s where Victor comes in. Our young friend here joined us just this Monday, and he needs help in catching up with our curriculum. He’s got the knowledge, mind you, but he’s facing some issues because all of our subjects are not in his native language. In particular, he’s having difficulties with the English assignment he’s received from Mr Lupin.” The blue eyes turned back to Van Helsing. “It will be a win-win situation if you can tutor him, Abraham. I’ll count the hours towards your social service requirement, and Victor here will receive the support he’ll need to integrate into our system. What do you think?”

Van Helsing sat there, absorbing the barrage of information that had been launched at him. He hadn’t been keen on social service to begin with, because it involved interacting with people and that was the least of his strengths – he didn’t like either of his last experiences at the elderly home or the orphanage because the residents had mocked his Cockney accent, and so he had just given up. He had no idea what Frankenstein would be like, but the boy had been nothing but pleasant so far and given that it was just one person, he could always distance himself from him after the stint was over if it turned out that they did not get along. He could tolerate his presence for a while at least. “I’m fine if he is,” he answered.

Saint-Germain smiled and turned back to Frankenstein. “And you?” he asked benevolently, receiving a tentative nod in return. He clapped his hands together in satisfaction. “Well, it’s settled then. Why don’t the two of you head on out to compare your schedules? I’m sure Victor will be available most afternoons since he has yet to join any of our clubs or activities. I’m certain that you can both work something out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Saint-Germain,” said Victor as he rose from his seat and bowed. As for Van Helsing, he was more than glad to be out of the headmaster’s office, so he gave a terse bow before beating a hasty retreat. The headmaster watched them go with a benign smile curving his lips. Abraham Van Helsing, talented as he was, had been too much of a loner ever since he entered his school, and most of his peers were terrified of his taciturn ways. A non-judgmental stranger as sweet-natured as Victor Frankenstein might just be the first real friend that he would finally make.


	2. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van feeds Victor his poison porridge.

“You’re the umbrella… er, guy, from yesterday, right?” Victor Frankenstein was saying, after they exited the office.

“Hmmm,” shrugged Van Helsing, looking away. He was always uncomfortable whenever anyone tried to talk to him. To his credit, Frankenstein seemed to understand that he did not wish to talk about it.

“Uh… your schedule? May I see it?” the other boy tried for a more neutral topic, taking his own notebook out of his satchel.

“‘Take a look’, you mean,” corrected Van Helsing, then regretted sounding as harsh as he did. Without another word, he extracted his file from his own school bag, and handed it over to Frankenstein.

It turned out that they were in the same year with most subjects taken at the same level, but Frankenstein had classes for Advanced Placement in Chemistry and Life Sciences. Van Helsing raised an eyebrow. Those weren’t regular classes at their school. Sensing his curiosity, Frankenstein volunteered an explanation in his halting English. It turned out that he was doing an advanced module under the local university, which would fulfil the prerequisites he needed to pursue the course he desired. This was a boy who seemed to have a clear perception of where he wanted to go in life.

It was only English that Frankenstein had classes at a lower level in, for it was technically his second language. He had classes under Mr. Arsene Lupin, a rather foppish Englishman with a pretentious French name – at least where Van Helsing’s opinion was concerned. He had never been taught by him before, but the other students had snickered and nicknamed him “The Arse” behind his back. Frankenstein seemed clueless about the dynamics of all these and was telling him that Mr. Lupin was a very nice and understanding teacher but spoke with big words he had trouble understanding. It was also unfortunate that his assignment was based on “The Chrysalids”, a dystopic science-fiction fantasy by John Wyndham that even Van Helsing himself had trouble relating to. And Mr Lupin had set Frankenstein an assignment to critique the novel, citing it “an easy read compared to what the rest have to do”. He sighed, knowing that he had his work cut out for him.

“Come by my place this Friday evening,” he conceded, “and bring that novel along.” Taking Frankenstein’s notebook, he jotted down his address and contact number, then paused. “And don’t worry about dinner. I’ll cook something.”

***

On Friday evening, Victor arrived on Van Helsing’s doorstep a little earlier than their agreed timing. To his surprise, a ginger cat with white markings like socks over all four paws was lounging over there, and he rang the doorbell, then bent down to give the cat a pat and scratched behind its ears. He was always a pushover where animals were concerned, and had been delighted to discover an animal shelter not too far from where his own accommodation was. He had plans to fulfil his own social service quota over there.

The ginger cat purred and rolled over indulgently, paws batting at Fran’s hands as the long fingers rubbed at its belly in a most delightful way. Victor laughed lightly, and resumed his stroking as the cat flopped this way and that, adjusting its position to suit the gentle pressure that Victor was administering. Then the door opened and he looked up to see Van Helsing staring down at him with a bemused expression. His hands stilled, and the cat got to its feet and shot straight through the open gap in the door. Victor gasped. “Ah! I’m sorry – it’s gone inside now—” he began, but Van Helsing cut him off.

“It’s fine. She belongs to me. I’ve just never seen her do that before.” The blond youth held the door open as Victor stood up and dusted off his jeans, before entering the residence. The little house was simply furnished and neatly kept, but a rather strange smell wafted out from the direction of the kitchen. Victor hoped that it wasn’t the dinner Van Helsing had promised.

Taking a seat on the beaten up couch, Victor tried to make conversation. “Mr. Saint-Germain said your family is at the East End… do you stay alone?”

“Saint-Germain lets me, as long as I report to my guardian. It’s midway between the school and the shooting range, so it works for me.” He glanced towards the kitchen. “You hungry? I’m just about done.”

“Don’t worry about me, please,” Victor said. “And thank you for dinner,” he added. The blond youth nodded curtly and headed back to the kitchen.

As he took in the few pieces of functional, clean but rather worn furniture, he couldn’t help but feel bad for imposing on Van Helsing. Every penny must count in his situation, and here he was setting aside resources to feed him as well. He would do his best to make it easy for Van Helsing to tutor him – the other boy could definitely use the scholarship. Victor’s own parents had the resources to support him through university, but the scholarship that he was receiving on account of his own merit still saved them money that they could use for their own retirement fund instead. Van Helsing had much less than he did, and he was grateful for his generosity.

The ginger cat came out from its hiding spot to join him on the couch, and he lifted it into his lap, cooing at it in a silly tone in his own native language. The cat cocked its head to one side, but hearing the smile in his voice, it nuzzled its head against his thigh, leaving tiny hairs all over his jeans. He noticed then that there was a rather large scar just behind the cat’s left ear – that explained the unusual ribbed texture he had felt when he had scratched that spot earlier. He began humming, then singing, a traditional lullaby beloved in his homeland, as he stroked the smooth-coated back.

“ Der Mond ist aufgegangen , die goldnen Sternlein prangen, am Himmel hell und klar:… Der Wald steht schwarz und schweiget, und aus den Wiesen steiget, der weiße Nebel wunderbar,” he sang out loud. Soothed by the sweet melody and tone, the cat purred contentedly and curled up in his lap, closing its amber eyes. Then clunky thuds of dinnerware being set on the dining table behind him alerted him to Van Helsing’s presence, and he looked up to see the blond staring at him. He flushed and stopped his singing, and hurriedly deposited the cat from his lap onto the ground. He wasn’t actually sure if the animal was allowed on the couch now that he thought about it.

“Dinner’s ready,” Van Helsing said, and Victor nodded. To his dismay, the strange odour that had been wafting out of the kitchen earlier was now emitting from the steaming dishes on the table. Swallowing hard, he kept his expression as neutral as he could as he took his seat and studied the contents of the plate before him.

It seemed to be some sort of tomato-based soup with barley and lentils as its main ingredient. A poached egg took pride of place in the centre of the dish, with dark and white sauces crisscrossing over the top. There were also dehydrated anchovies surrounding the egg, most likely responsible for that odd smell, and to his despair it appeared that Van Helsing had attempted to provide his guest with more ingredients than himself. He had even tried to plate the dish in an attempt to make it look somewhat aesthetic.

Keeping his voice as even as he could, Victor thanked Van Helsing for the food, recited grace, then dipped a spoon into the meal. His eyes watered when he took the first mouthful, for the salt level was far above what he was used to, and the aftertaste that lingered from the dried anchovies assaulted his senses even after he swallowed that first bite. Blinking furiously, he stabbed the runny egg next, hoping to neutralise the taste. Unfortunately, the sauces that had been applied liberally over his egg sent his tastebuds into overdrive. Van Helsing had apparently mixed mayonnaise and marmite, and it took every ounce of good upbringing Victor had to prevent himself from spitting the vile concoction back out. He choked down the mouthful and reached for the glass of water the blond had provided him with.

“It’s not much, but it’s hot,” the blond mumbled, eating his portion with a perfectly straight face. “I’ve made more than the usual amount. Help yourself to it.”

“Thank you, Abraham,” Victor wheezed, smiling as bracingly as he could. “This is more than I eat usually.” In desperation to dilute the overwhelming combination of mayonnaise and marmite, he began mixing up the ingredients in the hope that the taste would be more even. The equalised taste was hardly more bearable, but at least he could anticipate the flavour and wash it down with water.

When he reached the halfway point in his meal, Van Helsing finished his first portion and returned with more for himself. He had a separate dish which he placed on the floor for the cat, and received a hiss and an amber-coloured glare in return for his efforts. The cat promptly turned tail and left, and he shook his head at the ungrateful creature.

“What’s its name?” asked Victor, who had been observing their interaction.

Van Helsing’s cheeks reddened slightly, and he looked away before answering. “She hasn’t got one… I found her injured in the wooded area after my shooting practice and took her home. I just call her Cat.” He held up his arms, showing the numerous scratches he had received from this cat from hell. “She hates baths,” he explained tersely.

“Ah…” Victor bit his lip, wondering if he should say something at this point. In the end, he took a deep breath and made his utterance. “Shesahe.”

“What?”

“Your cat... It’s a male…” Victor revealed slowly. He watched Van Helsing’s face stiffen, then redden even more. “But! Uh, he’s really cute.” To stop himself from saying anything else that might cause Van Helsing any further embarrassment, he stuffed his mouth with another spoonful of the dreadful concoction.

“I… didn’t realise,” Van Helsing finally uttered. He fell silent as the information sank in. “Thanks for telling me… and he seems to like you.”

Victor felt his face growing hot. “Ah… you’re welcome?” He didn’t quite know how to respond to that either. Was Van Helsing complimenting him?

After another awkward pause, the blond asked, “That song you were singing… what was that?”

Victor brightened visibly. “Oh, it’s German – a lullaby! We sing it in Switzerland too. It’s called ‘Der Mond ist Aufgegangen’ - ‘The Moon Has Risen’.”

“Ah… it was – nice. Very calming,” Van Helsing acknowledged. He had actually been entranced by the singing and was sorry that it had stopped – the musical lilt Victor Frankenstein had in his voice lent a sweetness and purity to his singing that he wanted to hear more of. “And you just came from Switzerland this week?”

Victor continued working his way through his food as he told him more about his background. He was from Geneva, the oldest of three children and could speak French as well as German apart from English due to his family’s heritage. He had always been fascinated by the sciences, and had come to England to pursue his studies and hopefully master the lingua franca more widely used throughout the world. He was currently taking an undergraduate module offered by Imperial College London under Advanced Placement, but he had yet to decide which university he intended to enter. He also told Van Helsing about the pet shelter he had discovered.

“Maybe the other cats’ smells are on me,” he was saying with a light laugh, as he finally came to the end of the punishing meal. Then his face flushed as he realised how much he had spoken. Van Helsing had sat through his entire sharing with his face impassive, and he had no idea if his English had been comprehensible in the least.

Victor’s words had washed over Van Helsing like a wave of self-deprecating geniality. He had never heard anyone share this much with him at length before, and that lilt he had been so fascinated by was so easy on the ear that he found himself riveted to every word despite the somewhat poor grammar of Victor’s sharing.

“I think I won’t mind going with you,” Van Helsing said slowly, “to that pet shelter you mentioned.” Seeing Victor play with the cat had roused a warm feeling that felt funny but pleasant within him.

“Please do, Abraham,” Victor said with a relieved smile.

“Look… don’t call me Abraham. Only my elders do, and it’s such a mouthful,” Van Helsing said. “And not Abe, either, for God’s sake. You can call me Van. I don’t mind.”

Victor’s face became positively radiant with delight at the first obvious sign of friendship from the aloof individual before him. “Van!” he said, testing the word aloud. “It’s good to meet you!”

Van Helsing found that he had to look away from that bright green gaze.

“But please, I would like to do the dinner next time. It’s the least I can do for your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The German lullaby, “Der Mond is Aufgegangen”, composed by Mattias Claudius in the 1700s, is beloved in both Germany and Switzerland. The lyrics from this verse translate to “The moon has been arising, the stars in golden guising, adorn the heavens bright. The woods stand still in shadows, and from the meads and meadows, lift whitish mists into the night.” (Source: Wikipedia)


	3. You Are My Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van has a nice dream. Reality isn't quite so kind.

The next few weeks passed in an unexpectedly pleasant manner for Van. He had accompanied Victor to the pet shelter, as he had promised, and there, both of their hearts had been stolen by a friendly, three-legged corgi named Sisi – a strange name for a male dog, but he guessed that whoever had named him had been just as clueless as he had been with Cat. Sisi had taken immediately to Victor, which was unsurprising given the boy’s gentle nature, but Van had been astonished to discover that the dog was also equally affectionate with him. He found himself holding the long, rounded body of the warm, furry animal in his lap at his first visit, and had felt a strange reluctance to let go. It was only when Victor clapped his hands and called out to the dog in that sweet, musical voice of his that the corgi wriggled its way out of his lap and bounded over to the other boy, who received his charge with a laugh and scooped the bolster-like body high up into the air.

Victor had brought both light and warmth to him during their time together, and Van found himself looking forward to their interactions each week. The Swiss boy was an excellent student, and the homecooked meals he brought with him to each session were simple but certainly tastier than anything he could offer in return. His offers to reciprocate with dinner the next week were always most politely refuted, and he was frankly quite glad they were because it also helped to ease his own spending. Victor had insisted on drafting his answer to his English assignment by himself, but he always consulted Van about the sentence structures and expressions he had trouble with. In return for his help with English, Victor helped him with his other subjects if he struggled to understand them conceptually, and his own grades were improving as well. Even Aleister had commented on his improved mood and focus during his shooting training, but Van had simply flushed and continued his shooting with renewed aggression.

As he watched his tall companion laugh and tumble with the playful corgi on the grassy field, he found his face heating up. Perhaps it was the heat of the afternoon sun that was causing him to feel a little warmer than usual, he told himself.

Sisi bounded over to him, almost tripping over his single forepaw – so headlong had the dog’s rush towards him been – and he caught the animal as it attempted to bowl him over to lick at his face. Van scowled at that – dogs were disgusting that way – but he could never truly be mad at an animal like Sisi. As he held on to the panting corgi, he tried to ground himself in the moment.

But that lilting laugh always sent a jolt directly to his stomach, and when Victor turned to face him, his face bright with mirth and the green eyes animated behind the round glasses, he felt a funny tingle rise within his own chest. A friend, Van Helsing told himself. Victor was his friend. He could not explain why the notion both warmed his heart and felt like a punch to his gut all at the same time.

***

Van was floating in a world of bliss. He was out on a grassy field under a sunlit sky, and a gentle hand was smoothing his hair back, then stroking over his back, while a soothing voice crooned a lullaby in his ears. He nuzzled against the tender presence, until the strokes ceased and he found himself wanting more. He flopped over and waved his four paws in the air.

Paws? Since when–? But the question died the moment he found himself staring into the gentle features of his friend. Mesmerised by the shade of green in the sparkling irises, he reached up to stroke the smooth cheek that was already kissed by short copper curls. The sweet face came nearer and pale lips descended to touch his forehead, as a long-fingered hand smoothed down his front to caress his stomach. Then the sweet voice began singing again.

“Sleep, baby, sleep… Your father watched the sheep… Your mother is shaking the dream-land tree… and down fallen a little dream on thee… Sleep, baby, sleep…”

“The lyrics are wrong,” Van Helsing chided. “’THY father watchES the sheep’, it’s ‘THY mother’, and ‘down falls a little dream’.”

But he wanted the song to continue, so that he could stay in this moment just a little longer, with this angelic presence that reminded him of sunlight. Every smile and kindness granted him was a warmth he could bask in. If only his world could stop revolving during these moments so that he could stop and stare, and get drunk on the brightness from that sweet laughter that sparkled like liquid sunshine -- He wanted to hear that voice again, that gentle lilting tone that he loved... from the boy that he now realised he loved. 

“I think I love you,” he said, “please continue singing. I love your voice so, and you even more.”

The lovely, kindly countenance smiled and the pink lips opened again, but what came out this time was an earsplitting yowl, and then Van’s face was being prodded rudely, and the gentle pressure that had been on his belly suddenly turned into hard jabs.

“What the hell, Victor!” Van yelled as he sat up – and then blinked in confusion. Gone was the sunlit sky and grassy field – he was surrounded by the dim light that was filtering in through the curtains, and Cat was on the floor of his room. The animal looked most offended at having been rudely flung off the bed, as if he had not been the one batting Van’s face and digging his paws into his stomach. Amber eyes stared balefully into Van’s bleary ones, then with an abrupt about-face, the cat padded out of his room to resume its patrol of the quiet household.

Van wiped his face with his hand, flushing hard as he remembered the best parts of the dream before Cat had come and spoilt it all. He was certain that he could still feel the light touch of velvety lips on his forehead, and that silvery timbre was still resonating in his mind.

What had all that been about? Why had he been dreaming about his friend? And love - why had he said something like that? And what was this funny feeling that was pooling in his stomach?

The answer came like a jolt through his system. He was feeling love for his friend, and not just in the platonic sense either… he was certain now that there was desire there as well. And what if – what if Victor did not feel the same? The Swiss boy was so shy and innocent in his ways…

Perhaps he should keep his distance – concentrate more on his shooting practice, and perhaps stop accompanying Victor to that animal shelter. He couldn’t believe that he was actually envying the animals that got to savour his friend’s gentle touch all the time. “Those lucky bastards,” he growled out loud.

He told himself to keep his head cool. He had only known Victor for five weeks, and there were just three more to go before his regional tournament. He just had to prevent himself from falling deeper during this period. This ridiculous attraction that could never be – he merely had to stop allowing himself to feel.


	4. Trial and Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has an accident. Van punches a certain redhead.

Finally, the day came when Victor was ready to submit his assignment. He had brought it over to Van’s place just the previous Friday, and the blond had proofread it for grammar and sense. He had then redrafted his essay using his best handwriting and was looking forward to submitting it that Monday morning.

It was a wet morning – it seemed to be a common feature of London, and Victor carefully avoided the puddles as he navigated his way to school. The rain had been heavy the night before and mud was everywhere. He did not fancy the thought of dealing with his laundry on his own that day, and his landlord-cum-guardian had a bit of a temper which he did not wish to rouse should he trek muddy footsteps into the apartment he was staying in. Just a little further, he thought, and he would be safely within the school and out of the elements—

The wind got knocked out of him before he could complete the thought. It happened so quickly that he had no concept of what had happened to him, but he was on the ground, dazed, and his arm was flaring in pain. His satchel had fallen into a muddy puddle and was soaking up the dirty water. His glasses were gone and his ears were ringing, but he caught sight of a long braid of red hair sweeping down the back of a cyclist. “Sorry!” he heard the guy shout, but the cyclist did not stop to investigate the accident that he had caused. He sat there for a moment, drawing quick pained breaths as he cradled his arm against his body, and shakily tried to stand up.

A strong grip on his good arm came most unexpectedly, and he looked up to see Van staring in the direction the cyclist had gone with a grim look on his face. Then, the blond boy looked him over from head to toe. “You need to see the school nurse,” he pronounced crisply, and without another word, he bent down to retrieve Victor’s fallen glasses and satchel. The next thing he knew, Victor was being herded to the nurse’s office, where a quick assessment from the resident nurse, whose name tag identified her as Cardia, proclaimed that his writing arm was broken and he had a slight concussion from the impact. His elbow would be set later and he was to rest in bed for the remainder of the school day. He would also need to be accompanied home that night and monitored closely for further signs of concussion.

Van was about to take his leave after promising to be back after school was over, but Victor reached out and grabbed his shirttail. “My assignment! Van, it’s in my bag… is it ruined?” he looked like he was about to cry. Van looked at the pathetic figure he cut and felt his chest tighten. Wordlessly, he opened up the drenched satchel and took a look inside. His heart sank. Not only were the painstakingly-written pages waterlogged and muddied, but the rest of the items inside were also in a similar state of damage from the soaking in the puddle. There was the ever-present notebook of course, and reference books from the library, as well as what looked like Victor’s notes from his undergraduate course. “I’m sorry,” he offered inadequately, and felt his heart shatter at the look of devastation on his friend’s face. “I’ll try to dry them out. And your assignment… I can type it out for you on my desktop if you still have those drafts you showed me.” All of that after he murdered a certain red-haired boy, he seethed internally.

“Maybe later,” came the quiet response. Victor’s bottom lip was quivering with the effort of trying not to cry in front of his friend and the school nurse. Van left the damaged satchel with Cardia in the sick bay, for she had agreed to help to dry and clean up the items as best as she could, then took his leave from the room. Once he left, hot tears spilled down Victor’s cheeks, and he wiped them furiously away with his good hand so that no one else would see.

***

Van was extra moody that day during his classes – he was determined to find that red haired bastard who had the nerve to simply do a hit-and-run, but he could not make a move until it was officially recess time, so he sat smouldering in a corner and glowering at anyone who turned their attention his way. His classmates could feel his murderous intent and subtly tried to physically distance themselves from him. Finally, his break arrived and he stalked through the school, combing the floors level by level in search of his prey.

He found him eventually in the lab for Design and Technology, the red braid swaying as he spoke animatedly in that braying voice of his to someone about some idea he had for a prototype, but Van could not care less at that point. He crossed the room in two quick strides and grabbed the guy by his collar, hauling him out into the corridor, ignoring the startled shout of the guy’s companion. The red-haired boy was taller than Van by a good few inches, but he flailed helplessly and screeched as Van caught him by his long pigtail when he attempted to escape.

“How dare you!” Van roared in his face. “You didn’t even bother to check on him after you ran him over!”

“Wait! Please, wait!” pleaded the red-haired boy. “I’m sorry – I really had somewhere else I needed to be urgently! I meant to check in on him later after I was done at school! He’s at the nurse’s office now, isn’t he?”

“After school!” Van thundered. “You meant to just let him go through all of that on his own?! If I hadn’t been there, he’d still be out there sitting in a puddle!” Drawing his fist back, he let loose with a punch straight into the guy’s nose, and the guy gave a shout of pain.

“Argh you beast! You’ve broken my nose!” he wailed, sounding more nasal than ever as he cupped his hands over the abused appendage.

“And you broke his writing arm!” Van shouted, panting hard. “And all the things he worked so hard for – you’ve ruined everything – you’ve no idea what you’ve done to him!” He was getting incoherent in his rage, but the image of Victor’s shattered expression was at the forefront of his mind. Then he took a good look at the damage he had done to his victim, and his anger collapsed like a deflated balloon. He let go of the red-haired boy and rubbed a hand over his own throbbing knuckles. “He doesn’t deserve any of it... He’s the kindest and smartest soul you’ll ever meet,” he whispered, more to himself than to his victim.

“Impey, you need to see the nurse about that nose,” said the redhead’s companion nervously from the side, now that Van appeared to have calmed down somewhat. He started when Van Helsing turned his violet gaze on him. “L-look we won’t tell anyone what happened if you just leave him be!” He helped the shaken redhead to his feet, and the two of them scuttled off.

Van stood there, reeling from the whirlwind of emotions he had just been through. What had he done?

***

Victor was sitting up against the pillow in a cot in the sick bay, his face pallid and drawn as he stared out the window. His broken elbow had been set a little while ago by a visiting doctor and his arm was now in a cast and sling. He had been warned about the danger of falling asleep given the fact that he had a slight concussion, and he was now trying his best to stay awake.

A commotion at the door drew his attention, and he turned his head to see a tall redhead entering and clutching his nose, from which what seemed like rivulets of blood were streaming. The long braid swinging behind his back looked vaguely familiar, and he gaped when he realised that the redhead was the very person who had knocked him over that morning. Whatever had happened to him?

“He was punched by someone earlier,” reported the redhead’s companion to Cardia the nurse, but he gave no further details. “I think his nose is broken,” he added, as the redhead mumbled something garbled at him.

“I’ll take over from here,” said Cardia, and the redhead stopped for a moment and stared at the pretty brunette in astonishment, a stupid smile blooming across his face. Victor fought the urge to giggle as he observed the scene, because the red-haired boy looked absolutely ridiculous wearing such a dopey grin as the blood from his nose dribbled down his front and was now staining his lips and teeth.

The nurse was gentle but efficient in her assessment and subsequent treatment of the red-haired youth. It turned out that his nose had not been broken, nor did he have to worry about permanent disfigurement, but the bruising would be fairly significant for a while as some capillaries had ruptured, which explained the bleeding. After his wound was tended to, he could rest in the sick bay for a while before returning to class. The redhead was perfectly docile as the nurse tended to him, and stared after her with a lovestruck expression on his face when she finally exited the room. “I think I’m in love,” he declared dramatically aloud, and Victor let out a peal of laughter at that point.

The redhead swivelled his head to glare at the person who had dared to burst his bubble, and then his eyes widened when he realised who it was. He was over by Victor’s bedside in two big steps.

“Oh my goodness, are you alright? I’m sorry I ran you over this morning. I was so distracted trying to work out my equations in my head that I wasn’t looking where I was going, and I really had to rush over to the design lab because the supplier was leaving and I honestly meant to double back to check on you but I got waylaid before I knew it and now you’ve got a broken arm, oh God – er – I’m really sorry?!” he finished lamely.

Victor was staring at him in amazement – he didn’t think anyone could have said all of that in a single breath but the redhead in front of him had just done so. When Van spoke with him it was always easy to understand because the blond was a person of a few words and always spoke slowly and measuredly. This guy had been talking a mile a minute and he had barely managed to process any of it with his spinning head and the insane pace it had all been enunciated at. Not knowing what else to do, he held out his good hand and offered, “Victor Frankenstein… uh, yes, my elbow is broken, and you gave me some concussion…” His gaze travelled over to his stained satchel, but he held his tongue.

The redhead stared at his extended hand, then grasped it firmly, pumping it up and down. “Impey Barbicane! And I am ever so sorry! I really, really, _really_ didn’t mean to run you over! And I swear I would have come back to check on you if I could have—”

Victor chuckled, for the other boy’s enthusiasm reminded him very much of Sisi when he was overexcited. “I wish you did not knock me down, but I forgive you.” He gestured to the other’s swollen nose. “Who did that to you?”

The redhead darted a nervous look at the door, then leaned in and whispered, “Have you heard of this guy called Abraham Van Helsing?”


	5. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor confronts Van for hitting Impey. Van confesses his feelings for Victor rather roughly.  
> Warning: Expect some crude language in this chapter... like 10 f-bombs.

Victor was unusually quiet by the time Van Helsing finally appeared at the door of the sick bay when the school day was over. Impey had left the room some hours ago, upon Cardia’s request to let Victor rest. The young nurse had also dried out the sodden books and notes as best as she could, but there was nothing that could be done about the stains on them. Victor had taken a look at the salvaged material – his English essay was beyond hope, but at least his notes from his undergraduate class were still legible. He could copy them out again when his arm was healed. He sighed… the doctor had said that a full recovery would take at least two months, and he wondered how he was going to do any written work or take notes during his courses. He could perhaps loan a laptop from the school, but his typing would be slow with his non-dominant hand. He was still pondering how he was going to adapt to his new situation when the blond arrived.

Cardia immediately updated Van about the things he would need to take care of once Victor was home, as well as his medication requirements. She advised that it would be best for Van to allow Victor to stay over with him that evening since his place was nearer the school, and they could pick up other essentials the next day instead. She had packed all of Victor’s items back into his satchel, but with a plastic sheet around them all this time, and she handed the bag over to Van as Victor slowly got up from the bed and made his way out of the door.

They had exited the school gates and Victor still wasn’t talking to him. Van didn’t know how to ease this unusual tension between them. He suspected that the redhead whom he had sent into the sick bay had likely told Victor what had happened, but it was not his place to talk about it first. Victor continued to plough ahead, his gaze fixed on the road in front of him, and his mouth set in an unusually firm line. Eventually, they arrived in front of Van’s home.

“You’re angry,” Van stated as he unlocked the gate.

Victor considered whether to continue his silent treatment, but decided that it was better to just confront the situation directly.

“Should I not be? You punched Impey,” he replied, “and you had no need to!” He was beginning to become really irate now. “He didn’t tell anyone else who punched him, but he told me. Did you realise that you could lose that scholarship?!” Victor exclaimed.

They were on Van’s front porch, and Van’s ginger cat had espied them coming in, but he stayed at his little corner watching the two humans who seemed unusually upset with each other.

“I know,” said Van. “But you were so distressed, and I just got so angry!”

“What I feel shouldn’t matter!” cried Victor.

“It matters to me!” Van practically bellowed. “And can’t you think of yourself for once?! Stop trying to be such a fucking saint everytime!”

“You’re blaming me?” Victor stared at Van incredulously.

“I fucking am!” Van thundered. “Be selfish for once, will you, Victor? It’s not right that this happened to you – you don’t fucking deserve any of this pain. That Impey bastard destroyed all your hard work and you have every right to be mad at him. So get mad! And tell it to him like it is! It’s because you don’t dare to that I get so fucking mad on your behalf! You want to know why I punched him? It’s because you couldn’t fucking do so yourself!”

It was all that Victor could do to just stand there, absorbing the harsh words that felt like a barrage of punches to his body. He felt dizzy. He couldn’t stay here if Van was going to be like this.

“I’m going back to my own place,” he said. “Give me my bag back.” His voice was shaking, but he willed himself not to cry.

“Are you fucking serious?” Van stopped short, and his grip on Fran’s satchel tightened to the point that his knuckles turned white.

“You aren’t being reasonable right now,” Victor said. His voice continued to tremble, and  he hated himself for sounding that way. He tried to steel himself. “I can’t stay if you’re like this.”

Van felt his heart shatter. “Damn it… no… Victor, please, don’t go.” He now felt deflated. Victor wasn’t hurting now because of Impey, it was because of what  _ he _ had done. “I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be blaming you. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, and I took it out on you.”  _ Don’t leave! _ His mind was in a whirl. “And I regretted what I did to Impey the moment I saw how I had hurt him too. I’ll try to be better, okay? I’m sorry I yelled at you. I promise I won’t do so anymore.”

More than Van’s rage, his soft admission of his own faults was what broke Victor’s own control. Unbidden, traitorous tears spilled down his cheeks, and he dashed them away with his good hand, but they continued to flow until he was practically bawling right there on the front step. To some extent, Van had been right. He didn’t deserve this injustice – he had worked so hard, and had tried his best in everything. Impey shouldn’t have knocked him down, his notes shouldn’t have been damaged, his arm shouldn’t be broken right now, Impey’s nose shouldn’t have been punched, Van shouldn’t be blaming him, and the world wasn’t fucking fair. “Fuck…” he muttered, pressing his hand against his eyes. “Fuck damn it all,” he choked out between the tears. He sank down to sit on the porch step – his legs just couldn’t support him anymore.

Tentatively, Van took a seat next to him, looped an arm around his shoulder and just held him as he cried. He had no idea what else he could do, but he only knew that he never wanted to see Victor cry again. He didn’t think his heart could take it, and that helplessness he felt… if he could rage against the world on Victor’s behalf, he would. He wanted Victor to at least know how important he was to him, and the only way he knew to do that was to be right there with him as his friend cried his heart out.

Victor was a messy crier. They sat there for a long time, until Victor’s tears ran dry and his sleeve and Van’s shirt were soaking with tears and snot. When his sniveling finally stopped, Van said quietly, “Earlier I said that your feelings matter to me – and it’s true. I’m sorry I yelled at you with words you didn’t deserve, but please, put yourself first. You’re my first real friend, and you’re the best person I know…” He swallowed hard – there was that punch-to-the-gut feeling that he had again, but he pressed on, “and it’s fine that you get angry with me or in front of me… I don’t like it when you put yourself down, because  _ you _ matter to me, and I want you to know that... and – and… I… I like you a lot, alright?” He felt like cursing because he was just so bad at talking about his emotions.

Victor managed a watery smile. “I still consider you a friend, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That feeling Van had just grew more intense, and his chest felt tighter. “Thanks… uh, but I – I think it’s somewhat more than that…” There, he had said it. His heart was going a mile a minute, because if Victor did not want to associate with him anymore, this was the moment.

“I don’t think I understand what you’re implying?” Victor was looking at him in pure bafflement, and Van felt like tearing his own hair out. Of all times for Victor to fail to understand the nuances of the English language!

“I’m sorry,” Van said, “I hope this makes it clearer.” Changing his seating angle, he reached out to take Victor’s face between his hands. Leaning forward, he saw the green eyes widen behind the round glasses, and heard a sharp intake of breath, then a muffled “Mmmpffhh!” when he crushed the virgin lips beneath his in a clumsy kiss that conveyed everything that had been building up within him. He felt Victor stiffen and struggle for a moment, then the soft lips yielded, and his senses were consumed solely by the taste and feel of the other boy. Finally, he released Victor, his breaths gusting, and leaned back to observe the other’s reaction.

Victor too was breathing hard, his eyes wide with astonishment, and he raised a trembling hand to his lips which were still tingling from the hard kiss he had received. A flush began to creep up the fair skin of his neck to suffuse his entire face. “Fuck…” came the unexpected response, and Van began to laugh.

“That’s my eventual intent, yes,” said Van, but realised that Victor still looked confused with that phrasing. “That’s how I like you, Victor, and I don’t know if you feel the same, but I was hoping that you did?” he continued, his voice smaller than it had ever been.

Victor was quite a sight – still reeling from it all , dishevelled from his tears and now blushing hard after the kiss, and he was staring at Van as if seeing him for the first time. “I… I need time to think,” he managed to say, and felt terrible for saying it when Van’s face fell. “It’s not a ‘No’, Van, but it’s new to me, and… it’s something I need to do… for myself, as you said,” he continued, “to figure out if I feel the same.”

At these words, Van nodded. It was enough for him that Victor understood how he felt. He could wait for Victor’s answer.

“So… you’re staying right?” he asked. Please don’t go… he pleaded mentally.

The other boy’s blush deepened. “Yes…”

“Right.” Van smiled. “I’ll go see what I can whip up for us tonight.” His smile froze when the other boy paled immediately.

Victor took a deep breath – he had to be cruel to be kind – at the very least to himself, and it was time that Van stopped poisoning himself with his own meals. The blond had been right about the importance of making his voice heard, and he was going to put this realization into practice, even if it hurt the other’s feelings. 

“Van. Don’t cook anymore, please. It tastes terrible,” he stated matter-of-factly. He swallowed hard when he saw the blond’s expression become downright miserable. They still had to eat that night, and with his arm out of commission, he couldn’t cook either. But he now knew someone else who could. “I’m calling Impey over. This can be his compensation.”


	6. Of Soapsuds and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Impey makes a supply run, while Van and Victor get in the shower. Things are awkward.

To say that Impey Barbicane was jumpy when he was summoned by his new friend Victor Frankenstein to do him a favour at Abraham Van Helsing’s residence was the understatement of the century. While cooking was his forte (he had checked and double-checked his backpack to ensure that he had all of his favourite spices in there), he wasn’t sure that _the Human freaking Weapon_ himself was not going to punch the living daylights out of him this time. The capillaries on the inside of his nose had to be cauterized to stop the bleeding, and it was not an experience he wished to repeat anytime soon, though he would not have minded seeing that cute nurse again…

He stood on the doorstep, braced himself, and rang the doorbell. Let it never be said that Impey Barbicane was a person who ran from consequences! Well, things were always scarier when facing off against the Human Weapon. The tall teenager shuddered at the thought of it.

The door swung open, and he was greeted amiably by Victor, still dressed in his mudsplattered uniform, who bade him to enter. When he did so, he caught sight of Van Helsing who was seated on the couch with a rather sullen expression on his face. He gulped when the violet eyes turned to him.

“Barbicane,” Van Helsing addressed him, but at Victor’s look, he cleared his throat and tried for a less threatening tone. “I apologise for hitting you.”

Well, this was unexpected! “Er… Ah, um, no hard feelings, y’know! And I was wrong too for uh… knocking down Vicky over here…”

The purple eyes narrowed. “Vicky?”

“Well, yeah! We got to know each other well while chatting in the sick bay – and he’s a really, really, _really,_ good guy and really, really, _really_ smart and I’m really, really, _really_ sorry that I knocked him over… and he told me you guys need a favour for dinner tonight ‘cause, uhm, you can’t cook?”

Van’s head was beginning to pound. Impey Barbicane was literally the exact type of person who never failed to get on his nerves and make him glad that he was antisocial so that he would never have to deal with such people on a regular basis. To think that such an idiot had become Victor’s friend and even had the nerve to call him _Vicky_ … however, Victor was throwing him warning looks, and he kept his voice even as he muttered, “The kitchen’s that way.”

He’s got you totally whipped, boy… Impey smirked internally, and headed into the kitchen to check what he had to work with. Tomato ketchup, marmite, mayonnaise… - those were literally the only types of seasoning he managed to find. He found a tray of eggs, bread of course, some onions and garlic and… canned anchovies? By way of grain, there were some small sacks of rice, lentils and barley – there was no flour to be seen anywhere either. This was pathetic… he owed it to Victor to whip up something palatable, but this wouldn’t do, not even with his best ingredients. He would need to do a supply run.

“Hey, uh… I think dinner’s going to be a little late. I’ll need to get a few more items, but I promise you that we’ll have something good tonight,” Impey said. He unloaded the items from his backpack, then hitched it back over his shoulders. “Give me about 45 minutes, and I’ll have this kitchen up and running! Vicky here can go get clean first. All that mud couldn’t be comfortable.” He was out the door like a whirlwind, and the two boys were left staring in his wake.

Van cleared his throat. Right, he hadn’t thought about letting Victor become more comfortable. He could loan him a change of clothes first, but with that cast… “Do you need help changing out?” he asked, feeling the heat rising in his face.

Victor too felt embarrassed. Had he not been aware of Van’s attraction to him, he would have been far less self-conscious, but now that he knew, he felt very exposed just at the thought of Van seeing him in a state of undress. “I-I think I can manage!” he stammered. “I’ll let you know if I do need help.”

“Ah…” Van looked away, hating himself for putting Victor on the spot. “I’ll get you something to wear then…” He hurried off to his own room to get him a towel, a washcloth and a change of clothes without any zips and buttons, while Victor made a beeline for the bathroom to remove his clothes on his own.

He had managed to unfasten the buttons on his shirt, but had trouble shrugging it off his shoulders with the cast in place. Gritting his teeth, he decided to leave that for the last and tried to remove his bottoms first. He managed to step out of his uniform pants after some fumbling and manoeuvring, but removing his underwear was a more complex affair with only one functioning hand. He was still trying to push them past his hips when Van returned with the items he needed. He heard a tentative knock on the bathroom door.

“I’ll just leave these items out by the door alright?” Van called out.

Before Victor could reply, his good hand slipped and collided against the shower screen with a loud bang, and he yelped involuntarily. Then Van was hammering on the door.

“For God’s sake, just let me in already! What did you do to yourself?” The blond’s voice was taut with concern, and Victor sheepishly extended his now sore left hand to unlatch the door.

Upon entering the tiny bathroom, Van froze when he saw Victor’s state – the boy clearly needed assistance, not just with undressing but likely even with showering and towelling off later. Flushing, he eventually decided to make the offer. “Look, you can’t get those off on your own, or shower properly with just one hand,” he groused. “Just trust me, alright? I won’t touch anything you don’t want touched. And see, I’ll close my eyes too.” He squeezed his eyes shut as he held out the items he had brought with him like a shield.

Seeing that Van was just as uncomfortable about the situation as he was, Victor cleared his throat softly. “You will have to look if you want to help me,” he conceded. “Just… don’t stare.”

It was probably the hardest thing that Van ever had to do as he slipped the soiled shirt off Victor’s shoulders, and helped him step out of his undergarments. He could close his eyes to avoid staring at the miles of creamy skin that were revealed, but it would be much more difficult not to feel it beneath his hands while in the shower later. He tried his best to keep his eyes fixed on Victor’s face so that he wouldn’t see his nether regions either.

He began removing his own clothes, but kept his boxers on – it would be fine if they got wet. He retrieved a stool for Victor to sit on facing away from him – it would be easier to help him wash his hair and upper body, and the injured boy could cover up with the washcloth and handle the cleaning of his lower body with his one good hand. Van turned on the shower, and for a while, only the sounds of running water could be heard as Van helped Victor to wet his hair and upper body. Then he took the shampoo and began working it into the copper locks.

“Is the pressure alright?” he asked, as he massaged the soft scalp lightly. He heard the other boy’s breath hitch a little, and it was followed by a long exhale.

“It’s good, thank you, Van,” replied Victor, his voice breathy, but calm. Van’s fingers moved down, and he had to stifle a moan of pleasure, for the blond was hitting all the right spots. When the strong fingers moved down to massage his neck as well, he practically melted at the sensation, and he sat bonelessly on that stool, feeling sorry that it was over when Van began rinsing the formula out.

Van tried to keep his motions as medically professional as he could when he was to clean Fran’s back next. He apologized for removing the washcloth from its protective spot, wet it and created a foam with the shower gel he had, and began scrubbing down the lean back of his friend. As far as possible, he tried not to touch the skin directly – he couldn’t promise himself that he wouldn’t fantasise about that later – but he had promised Victor that he wouldn’t touch him unless it was absolutely necessary. He rubbed the lather over his friend’s chest and one good arm, then rinsed it all off. He finally passed the washcloth back to Victor. “I think you can take it from here?” he asked, keeping his eyes averted.

“Yes, thank you, Van,” was the soft reply, and Van beat a hasty retreat, drying himself off as best he could. Victor would probably need help as well to put the clothes back on, but he had chosen the loosest T-shirt he had, and gartered sleeping trousers so that the injured boy would not need to deal with buttons and zips.

A short while later, he heard his name being called tentatively. He re-entered the bathroom to see Victor standing there blushing away with his hair and torso half dried and holding the towel in front of his privates. Water droplets were all over the rest of him.

“I can’t dry off my back and arm properly,” he mumbled awkwardly, “or the rest of me…”

“Right…” Van took the stool out from the shower area and dried off the seat with the other towel he was still holding. He laid the towel over the seat and gestured for Victor to sit down, then took the larger towel his friend was holding to dry his hair and blot the remaining water off his torso. He had to bend down to also soak up the droplets clinging to the skin of Victor’s slender legs - it would be hard to put any clothes on if his skin remained wet, and he did his best to keep his eyes averted as Victor tried to shield his exposed genitalia from view with his one functioning hand. When Victor was finally dry enough, he handed a clean pair of boxers to him, and the seated position made it much easier for the injured boy to pull the clothing up using one hand.

The nervous silence that had fallen between them was eventually broken by Victor himself. “It’s amazing,” he mused, “I never realised how much I depended on my right arm before.” He chuckled as he raised the arm with the cast so that Van could loop the sleeve over it, and he then wriggled into the rest of his shirt.

Van was relieved that he was finally clothed, though Victor was practically swimming in that loose T-shirt he had passed to him. “It’s a good thing you’ve got me to help you, then,” he said. “I can’t imagine how you’d get clean all by yourself.”

“I probably couldn’t,” Victor agreed. “So… thank you, Van. You were a great help… and you did it rightly.”

I didn’t take advantage, you mean, Van mentally corrected. He tried to play it off more lightly. “Well, it’ll be just another year before we’re both adults, right? I won’t count on behaving like a gentleman by then,” he quipped.

Victor flushed, but softly countered, “You must wait longer, I’m afraid.”

“Eh?” Van was truly confused. They would both be 18 next year…

“Uh… I didn’t want to make a blow-up of this, but I’m only 15. I skipped two grades…”


	7. The Genius Impey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cat gets a new name. Impey gets on Van's nerves.

When Impey returned from his supply run, he found Van and Victor seated rather far apart with reddened cheeks. Victor had changed into a ridiculously oversized t-shirt, and currently had an orange-coloured cat in his lap. He was stroking its back with his good hand, while Van appeared to be looking through the contents of a soiled satchel on the coffee table. Quickly deducing that the dirtied bag probably belonged to Victor, he wisely avoided drawing attention to it, and reached out a hand to pat the ginger cat, but had to quickly draw it back when it reacted to him with a hiss and a lightning-quick swipe of its paw.

“Whoa, temperamental much?” Impey exclaimed. The cat glared indignantly at him, and the expression on its face reminded him rather strongly of someone…

“He is quite picky about whom he likes,” Victor explained, as he attempted to soothe the agitated animal. The cat continued to glare at Impey balefully.

Yep, most definitely like a certain someone! “And his name is?”

“Cat.” The answer came from Van Helsing.

“You can’t be serious,” Impey groaned. “With a name like that, he’d got a good reason to be that bad-tempered!”

Van Helsing merely glared at Impey with an indignant expression that almost exactly matched his cat’s. This was too much.

“Well, please consider renaming him to something less… generic?” Impey suggested. “Like maybe Ginger, or Rex, or well… maybe from the place you found him in!”

“Van said he was found in a little forested area near his shooting range,” Victor supplied helpfully.

“Ah… Woody? Eek, no… hmm… a dell… how about Delly?” Impey suggested. “Delly sounds cute!”

Victor’s face lit up. “I like the sound of that! Van, what do you think?”

“Hmmm…” Van honestly could not have cared less about renaming his cat, but upon seeing Victor’s reaction, he acquiesced, “It’s alright with me.”

“Delly,” Victor said, trying out the name. With the lilt he had, it sounded like there was a smile in the name. The cat glanced up at him curiously. “Oh! He responded. I think he likes it. Try it, Van?”

Van sighed, but Victor was watching him. Fine. “Delly.” The cat ignored him completely. “Look, I get it. He hates me.” So does the world, he fumed internally. Three years…!

Impey decided it was high time he started cooking. “Well, I’m glad the name works! Now sit tight – I’ll have the meal ready in thirty minutes flat!”

***

True to his word, Impey delivered an outstanding dinner that astonished both Victor and Van. He had made what he called a simple pasta dish, but it was probably the best thing that Victor had eaten in weeks, and Van in just about forever.

“You should be a chef, Impey,” Victor said, for about the third time in a row. He had practically moaned out loud when the delicately balanced flavours of the handmade ravioli first burst on his tongue, and had been effusive in his praise of the dish. Van on the other hand, was eating his meal in grudging silence, his jaw tightening with every compliment Victor paid. Impey, on the other hand, was preening like a peacock.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it, Van?” Victor asked. He was making the first genuinely blissful smile Van had seen for the entire day, and Van couldn’t find it in himself to not respond to that.

“Hmmffph,” Van’s nod was barely perceptible, but even he was not immune to the wonderful flavours that assaulted him. Finally, he condescended to speak. “It is surprising that someone as crude as you can create something so fi- something like this.”

“What can I say? I’ve got good genes,” Impey winked, and Van felt like giving him two black eyes to match that dark bruise blooming so beautifully on his nose. “And I can teach you if you want! But more importantly, I’m a genius engineer in the making!”

“We’ll see when the ‘A’ Levels come next year,” Van scoffed.

“Ha! Then I’ve another two years to go,” said Impey. “Unlike our smart friend Vicky here – a year younger than me but already a year ahead! This guy is going places, I tell you.”

_He knew?!_ Van was stunned. _He’s only known Victor for a day and he already knows more about him than I do._ His grip tightened around his fork and he stabbed a piece of ravioli almost viciously before shoving it into his mouth. He fumed as he chewed sullenly on it. Why did it have to taste so good?

“Guys, please don’t make a big blow of this…” Victor was always self-conscious when the subject of his intellect came up. 

“You mean ‘make a big deal out of this’, or ‘blow it up’, right?” supplied Impey helpfully, and Van glared over at him. Coaching Victor in English was supposed to be _his_ job! “I really don’t get why you’re so hung up about people talking about how brilliant you are. Be proud of your genius, Vicky!”

Victor managed a tight smile in response. Back in Switzerland, he had been unable to fit in during his younger years because he was so far ahead of his peers, and when he skipped grades and attended middle school he had been teased for being so small and skinny compared to everyone else. In an attempt to be accepted by his classmates, he had agreed to do others’ homework for them, until his parents found out and told him in no uncertain terms that it was not an acceptable compromise. The little progress he had made up the rungs of the teenage social ladder were nullified the moment he stammeringly told his peers that he wasn’t allowed to do all that for them anymore. It hadn’t helped either that just the previous year he experienced a ridiculous growth spurt that left him towering awkwardly over many of his schoolmates. He eventually decided to concentrate solely on his studies – they were not complicated to navigate, unlike the tumultuous waters of human relationships.

His one source of comfort had always been his loving home, but his parents had realised how miserable he was in school, so when the offer came from Britain for him to continue his studies over there instead, they had seized the opportunity to allow their son to make a fresh start in a place where nobody knew who he was. Unfortunately, as their two younger children were still attending school in Switzerland, Victor would have to be on his own, but he was so mature for his age that his parents knew they could trust him to take care of himself. So there he was, cut off even from his family. He had become incredibly lonely and longed to have friends who could truly understand him. Before meeting Van, friendship had always been put on the backburner. He did not want his giftedness to become a point of contention now that he finally had friends!

“Actually,” he began, “I like school and want to stay around a little longer.” It would allow him to spend more time with his newfound friends too. He didn’t want to be rushed out of the system, now that he had finally fit in.

“You’re right,” Impey agreed. “We’re pretty lucky where we are. Sainty-G is real chill with us dabbling in our own little projects too. It’s kinda why I ran you over this morning… I’m really, really, really sorry about that, but I promise you that prototype I’m working on is for a really, really, really good cause!”

Impey’s enthusiasm was infectious and Victor felt his own smile broadening. “I can’t wait to see what you have in mind then. If it is as good as your cooking, it must be very clever.”

Impey struck a pose. “It’s even better! After all, what you put in will always affect what comes out – it’s like the Law of Conservation! So good food produces good engineers!” Noticing the sullen look on Van’s face as the latter finished off his serving of ravioli, he couldn’t resist goading him a little. “Like how that miserable pantry creates this sourpuss over here. But have no fear – Impey will remedy that in a jiffy. When I next come over, I’ll whip up something so good that Vanny here won’t be able to frown even if he wanted to.”

_Vanny_ ? A certain wannabe engineer must have a death wish. “That’s _Van Helsing_ to you,” Van said in a vaguely threatening manner as he wiped his mouth. “And who said you can come over again?”

Alas, Victor was turning to him, his eyes wide with disappointment. “But, please, Van! He must come again. Even I cannot whip something so good up when my arm is alright. And you’ll teach us both to cook, right, Impey?”

“You bet,” grinned Impey. He knew he could get away with most things as long as Victor was present. If he were left alone with Van Helsing, he wasn’t sure if he would last even five minutes.

Pinned in place by pleading jade-green eyes, Van decided to surrender. “Fine.” He just had to make a show of polishing his shotgun in front of that annoying presence the next time.


	8. From the Frying Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saint Germain has some questions for Victor to answer.

Victor had the day off from school the next day due to his concussion, so he remained behind in Van's home while Van went on ahead. Impey had kindly made extra portions of ravioli that he could heat up within the microwave, and he looked forward to savouring the wonderful meal once again.

As he stroked Delly, who was purring contentedly in his lap, he could not help but wonder how he was going to spend the rest of the day. If he had been back at his own place, he could at least get a headstart on his revision, but here, he was truly stuck with nothing to do otherwise. He did not have the heart to look at the contents of his satchel for the time being, and Van had taken it up to his room so that he would not have to look at it. "Out of sight, out of mind," had been the blond's gruff explanation. He had been guided to a spare room within the house after Van had spent some time cleaning it up and changing the bedding, and it was there that he had spent the night. Van had stepped out early, so he was alone when he woke up. He would truly have nothing much to do but sleep for the rest of the day. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the landline's phone rang, and after debating whether or not to pick it up, he did so.

"Victor," came Headmaster Saint Germain's voice over the phone. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm- I'm good, sir!" Victor was flustered. How did the headmaster know that he was here?

"Mr Lupin told me that you were involved in a cycling accident, and rather unfortunately, a discipline case has arisen as well in relation to that," the Headmaster said. "I would like to get your side of the story because the two parties involved in it are being – how shall I put it – strangely tight-lipped. I would like you to come over to the school to give your account of the incident. Mr Lupin has a free period around 11 o'clock, and he is willing to swing by to pick you up. Are you able to get ready by then?"

"Y-yes..." Victor stuttered. When he put down the phone, his mind was a whirl of thoughts, but his first concern was for Van. Did the headmaster mean to strip him of the scholarship? He did not want Van to lose out on the one thing that could help him move forward. And what exactly had Impey reported? He did not want the redhead to get into trouble either.

When Mr Lupin came over in his car to pick him up, he was still wracking his brain about how to give his account. He was quiet in the car all through the short drive to school, though Mr Lupin kept up a steady stream of small talk all the way. Finally, as the car turned into the school's parking lot, Victor asked the question that had been burning at the back of his head. "Mr Lupin, if what I say will get both of my friends into trouble, should I not say it?"

The Englishman regarded him kindly. "Well now... what have the books you've read so far said about covering things up?"

"It never leads to good outcomes," Victor responded. In those stories, so many problems arose because people kept so many secrets and did not trust others. "But... I'm afraid that what I say will have big consequences..."

Mr Lupin patted his shoulder gently. "Mr Saint Germain is a fair judge of character. As much as I hate clichés, honesty truly is the best policy when it comes to him. If you tell the truth, you give your friends permission to come clean as well. I think the outcome will surprise even you."

They exited the car and Mr Lupin accompanied Victor up to the office. The teacher paused for a moment, then said, "The Headmaster is someone who always puts the students ahead of anything else. He will know what is best. Be bold enough to speak your mind. Good luck." He gave Victor an encouraging smile, then left to carry on his teaching day. Victor stood before the closed door of the headmaster's office, and raised his hand to knock.

***

"Victor, it is good to see you. Oh dear, that arm is indeed broken, isn't it? Come, take a seat," Headmaster Saint Germain said, ushering Victor in. Van and Impey were already seated in two chairs at the back of the office with strangely matching mulish expressions. Victor settled uncertainly into his chair that only faced Saint Germain – he could not look back to see what the reactions of his two friends to his account would be, and it made him all the more jittery.

"So, Victor, I was hoping that you could shed a little light on this rather peculiar situation. I have made very little headway because those two have simply not said very much at all. Kindly give me your insight."

Faced with no choice, Victor decided that straightforward was the best way to go. "Impey knocked me down. Van saw it happen, then Van punched him when I was in the sick bay." Saint Germain's eyebrows rose, and he heard Impey's loud gasp behind him. He did not dare to turn around – he did not know what seeing Van's expression would do to him. "But sir, these are just bare bones – there is much more flesh to it," he continued.

"Impey had an important appointment to keep – he was thinking about his prototype design, and was in a rush because the supplier could only spare him those few minutes. It is why he did not focus on the road. I was stepping on and off the curb so that I could avoid the puddles. He was not able to see me in time, and so he knocked me down. He told me he wanted to see me once he was done with his supplier, but he ended up coming in because of his nose. He apologised to me at the sick bay and we have become friends."

He kept his gaze steadily locked on Saint Germain, who was regarding him over his steepled fingers. "Van helped me up and brought me into the sick bay. He saw that I was hurt and also upset because my satchel contents were damaged. I was very heartbroken, because so much of my work was destroyed. It upset him, and it is why he went to look for Impey. He punched him, but he also told me that he felt sorry once he punched him, and I believe him – Van is not a cruel person – he just feels deeply. And he helped me back to his place and took care of me, and I asked Impey to come over to help us cook for dinner and everything is good between us now. Please, sir, we are all friends, and I do not wish for either of them to be punished."

Saint Germain narrowed his eyes. "I think you are missing the point, Victor. Accidents do happen, yes, but it appears that Impey ran away when he should have stopped immediately to check on you. Whether he had an appointment to keep with his supplier or not, he should have taken responsibility for what he had done, and done so immediately. I don't think that Abraham here would have been twice as upset as you said he was if he had. And that said," he glanced over at Van Helsing, "there is no good reason to attack a fellow student with the intention to hurt. There's a term for that called 'premeditated assault', and this is something that we cannot condone within this school. This must go down officially in his conduct grading."

"In the case, Sir," Victor's voice was uncharacteristically firm, "please mark me down as well."


	9. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor faces off against Saint Germain.

To his credit, Saint Germain did not bat an eyelid at the outrageous request. Instead, he studied the boy before him with great interest. "Pray, tell me why."

"Van and I have become close friends during the past weeks. I know he is not a cruel person. He never hurt a fellow student all these years – until he met me. Maybe I influenced him during this time together? I was upset too, and maybe I said something in that sick bay that he thought meant 'Attack Impey'."

"I would hardly believe you capable of that, Victor, and I'm certain that Abraham is not such an obedient attack dog as to do all of that without a mind of his own," Saint Germain said. "And please allow me to illustrate more clearly how our institution operates. We aim to provide a safe space for all students who attend our school to stretch their potential so that they can be prepared for the world out there. I cannot allow a student to brazenly attack another within this space."

"With all due respect, Sir, you will be making it unsafe for all three of us!" Victor lifted his chin defiantly.

Another outrageous statement, and this time, he saw Saint Germain lean forward. "Explain," came the brief command.

Victor swallowed hard. He was in for the count now. "You say that this school is to be safe for all students, and we can stretch our potential here. It is why I transferred. I was happy to study here because you have good programmes and now I made these two good friends. And you also say that this school must prepare us for the world out there. Van needs his scholarship or else he cannot afford to go to university. Impey is in the middle of creating something lifechanging. If you mark the both of them down for conduct, you will take it all away. Since we are now all friends, we do not wish harm on each other, so not a single one of us will want to remain here any longer. You must agree that there are three excellent students in this room that can go so much further if you give us the chance, but you will lose all three of us, and fail to protect us from that very future you say to prepare us for. Our future becomes uncertain and unsafe, so by these actions, you will harm us."

The office was pin-drop silent after his little speech. Finally, Saint Germain spoke again. "Am I to understand, Mr. Frankenstein, that if I were to go ahead to make an official record of either Mr. Barbicane's or Mr. Van Helsing's offences, then you would leave this school?"

"Yes, Sir," said Victor, dropping his gaze to the table before him. "These friends are important to me. If you punish them, it will not go down well with me."

"Very well. I am clear about where you stand. I will like to speak to these two privately now. If you would be so kind, please step outside for the time being. I will call you in again when I am done."

***

When Victor exited the office and closed the door behind him, he felt his legs sag beneath his weight. He had never spoken up like that in his life, let alone to a person of authority. He could only count on the mercy of Saint Germain at this point, for he knew there were so many holes in the logic of his own argument. He had done what he could – it was now up to Impey and Van to fend for themselves.

After about ten nail-biting minutes, he was summoned back into the office. Both Impey and Van were seated with their heads contritely bowed. He wondered what had been said to them to reduce them to such a posture.

"Hello again, Victor. Do take a seat over there. I have the full testimonies of these two now, and I have considered your words as well. I have a few propositions to make, and I would appreciate full compliance on everybody's part."

Victor sat on the edge of the remaining chair, wondering what Saint Germain had in mind for all of them.

"I will grant mercy to both of you, Mr. Barbicane and Mr. Van Helsing, on condition that you fulfil these requirements. Firstly, both of you must make a formal apology to the party you have hurt in the presence of everyone else within the school. You will do so during today's afternoon assembly. This is a must because other students must know that such acts are not to be repeated under any circumstances. Besides, there were other students present during these incidents and they must know that there are consequences to be faced. However, I assure you that I will instruct the student body that this matter is not to be spread beyond the walls of this school compound, they will personally deal with me should this happen. Secondly, both of you are to work together to assist Mr. Frankenstein in whatever way possible to ensure that he is able to keep up with his lessons here. Mr. Barbicane, you will take care of any aspect to do with technical assistance, and Mr. Van Helsing, Mr. Frankenstein will be under your care during this recovery period and he is to be well taken care of." Both Van and Impey nodded to show their agreement, and Saint Germain was satisfied.

"My third condition is specifically for you, Mr. Frankenstein. It is my wish that you remain within this institution, and develop your potential here. I partnered you with Mr. Van Helsing with the belief that you could mutually support each other, and I am glad to see that you have become firm friends. You said that his future is contingent on his successful application for a scholarship. It will be your responsibility to ensure that he succeeds in this, and that he curbs his rash impulses from now on. You will also ensure that no further conflicts ensue between Mr. Barbicane and him. Are these conditions agreeable to you?"

Victor could hardly believe his luck. Saint Germain was indeed letting his friends off very lightly, and it was more than he could ask for. He nodded eagerly, and the Headmaster smiled fondly at him.

"And just one more thing, Victor," Saint Germain said. "I quite enjoyed hearing your views today. I would certainly wish to converse with you on a more frequent basis. Since you have yet to join a club or society, I will nominate you to join the Student Council, and you will work there with your fellow student leaders to provide more ideas about how I can take better care of the students here. I believe your contributions will be most valuable."

Victor was stunned to say the least. It was frankly the last thing that he had expected – he, a student leader? It was certainly out of his comfort zone, but Mr. Lupin had told him to trust Saint Germain's judgment. Besides, the tone the Headmaster had used brooked no dissent. He looked at his friends to gauge their reactions. Impey was staring at him in pure admiration, and Van simply gazed at him steadily before nodding almost imperceptibly. He gulped, then squeaked out, "Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. Saint Germain."

The Headmaster clasped his hands. "Well, that settles things then. Oh, Victor, please head on over to the sick bay. Nurse Cardia wants to examine you again to determine when you can rejoin us for lessons. You can have your lunch after that, and if necessary, Mr. Lupin will send you back so you can rest. Now be off, all of you. Dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir," they chorused.

Saint Germain smiled indulgently as they practically fell over one another in the scramble out of his office. These boys had all grown up so much within the span of these short weeks. He was certain that they would all flourish in time to come.


	10. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys face the consequences.

Impey was all over Victor the moment they were out.

"Vicky! That was awesome. I honestly thought we were all going to be expelled! And Vanny! I'm so glad you aren't going to lose that chance at the scholarship!" He made as if to enfold them both in a group hug, but stopped short when Van glared at him. Right – Victor's bad arm!

"It's Van Helsing to you, you idiot," Van groused. He, too, was extremely relieved at the outcome. He did not look forward to the public apology he had to make, but losing his pride was a small price to pay. And Victor – he had not thought that he had it in him to stand up to Saint Germain like that. He was much stronger than he had given him credit for. "Thank you, Victor," he said succinctly, hoping that it would sufficiently convey everything he felt.

The Swiss boy was looking rather pale. "I never want to go through that again. Please don't mess up again, you two."

"We'll make it up to you!" Impey declared.

Noting Victor's pale countenance, Van decided that they should take the conversation elsewhere. "Let's escort Victor to the sick bay first. We will still need to return to class, so we can discuss our options over the lunch period afterwards." He grimaced. "Then we'll face the music at the afternoon assembly."

It was going to be a long day ahead for all of them, but for the time being, at least there was also a clear path ahead for the future.

***

Later that evening, they convened at Van's house. Impey promised to cook up a feast so as to celebrate their freedom. As they relished the delicious meal he laid before them, they rehashed the day's events.

"Sainty-G just had to retell the entire story in front of the entire school. Now everyone knows that I ran Vicky over..." Impey bemoaned. "But I'll show them – when my prototype is done, everyone will see me differently!"

"Hmmphfff," Van grunted. The worst part for him had been apologising to the red-haired idiot for the glorious bruise he had given him, and for causing fear to his schoolmates with his conduct. He was never one to care for the opinion of others, but he hated being in the public eye. It had only been because of Victor's pleading gaze that he had deigned to use a suitably contrite tone to make his apology. And it was obvious by now that the whole school knew that he was close enough to Victor to go to extremes on his behalf. It hadn't been his idea of how he wanted their relationship to develop... he would have to be much more covert from now on. If only a certain redhead wasn't always coming over...

"Your apology was very profuse, Impey," Victor said. "I felt quite embarrassed."

Impey was dismissive. "Well at least it's all over – and we have a good reason to celebrate now that Vicky is joining the student council! There are some impressive poeple in there. You met a few today, didn't you?"

"I did..." Victor said. "but I think Mr. Saint Germain meant to punish me by putting me in there."

"Eh? It's considered a privilege to be in it!" Impey said, his eyes round with surprise.

Victor smiled wryly. "Do you know who's in there?"

Van tried to remember. "There's Rempart Leonhardt... Herlock Sholmes..."

"Finis Beckford and Victoria Alexandrina!" Impey added. "Oh man... What was Sainty-G thinking? It's a proverbial shark tank. Vicky will be eaten alive."

"Yes... they are all such strong people..." Victor sighed. How was he ever going to make his voice heard among this lot?

"Well, it's a good thing then that Vanny here's got your back. People know not to mess with the Human Weapon after all. And of course, there's me, the genius engineer – they won't dare to hurt you."

"Don't rank me with the likes of you," Van grit out. "And for the last time, it's Van Helsing!"

"It's such a mouthful," Impey pouted. "Alright, may I call you Helsing then? It's much more endearing."

Van sighed. Dealing with someone as persistent as Impey Barbicane was the most tiresome thing he had ever encountered. At least he had one redeeming quality where his food was concerned. "Fine," he acquiesced. "And don't you dare shorten it any further!"

Impey held up his hand with his thumb and pinky folded in. "Scout's honour! Oh, and by the way, Vicky, I've got something for you." He bounded over to his backpack and retrieved a large package. He opened it up and took out a small gadget. "Here - a voice recorder you can use for your classes! It's kinda like the old-school tape recorder, but the cool thing is that it can transcribe what it's recorded. I feel really bad that you can't write now, but you can dictate into this thing and it'll write it out for you once you connect it to a terminal." He opened the bag again and took out a laptop this time. "And I loaned this out from the school's technician – I'll set up all the programmes you'll need after dinner and you'll be all set to return to school once you're ready! Ah, and here are some spare flash drives I've got – physical notes are so old school."

Victor was astonished at Impey's consideration. "Impey! Thank you... these will be such a great help to me."

Van had to admit that what Impey had done was really impressive. He had something in mind to top that, but he would keep it to himself for the time being. Besides, Victor's study materials were still at his rental apartment, and they were supposed to go over to retrieve them later this evening. He would put his own plan into action after that.

"We will need to head over to his rental apartment to get his other materials after dinner," he told Impey. "You can set up that laptop for him in the meantime."


	11. Ready, Aim, Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary: Van takes the next step and does a little sharp shooting.

Victor had got the all-clear from Nurse Cardia that day, so he was able to go to school again by the end of the week. He was getting used to working with the technical gadgets Impey had supplied him with, but he still hadn’t the heart to look through his soiled notes. He had passed the draft of his English essay to Van after they retrieved his belongings for the latter to type out on his desktop, but otherwise he was able to continue with his work and revision quite independently. Impey became a frequent visitor and chef and at times he saw more of him than Van, for the latter had more intensive training now that his regional tournament was drawing close and seemed to be holeing himself up in his room to catch up on his work for nights on end.

Van continued to assist him with showering, and he never made another mention of his attraction to him, but Victor could sense the underlying current during their interactions now that he was aware of it. If he was to be honest, his initial interactions with Van had been purely platonic, but he was beginning to feel a deeper level of attraction to him now that he was spending so much more time with him. He was well aware of Van’s kind nature that he so often covered up with his gruff exterior, and that unexpected gentleness and consideration he occasionally demonstrated appealed very much to him. He had to admit that Van was very easy on the eyes as well – he sometimes caught himself staring at the sharp features of Van’s profile more often than he should.

The days flew by as he got used to his new routine. He had been staying at Van’s for a couple of weeks already, and one evening, he heard a knock on the door to the guest room while he was working away on the laptop. When he looked up, Van was standing there holding a sheaf of papers and looking unusually ill at ease. The blond usually carried himself with an air of detached self-assurance that Victor wished he could imitate, but this time, the blond seemed strangely fidgety.

“You doing anything this weekend?” Van asked rather abruptly.

Uncertain, Victor replied, “I haven’t any plans so far…”

“Well… that regional tourney… I was wondering if you wanted to come and watch…” Van said, folding his arms and looking away. “Not that it’s that important coz’ it's just the qualifying, but… the rapid fire, trap and skeet events are actually pretty interesting to spectate. And um…” he glanced over at Victor, “we could go see the sights in London after that if you like.”

“Just… the two of us?” Victor asked.

“Well, if Impey wants to come…” Van’s face fell slightly, then he shook his head. “Actually, no, I was hoping that it’d just be us, Victor.”

Victor’s heart was pounding rather hard in his chest. Van was officially asking him out, wasn’t he? In their recent interactions, Impey had been a convenient buffer, but now he had to face this attraction head on. He had told Van that he needed time to think it through, and Van had given him that time and space while maintaining that respectful distance. The least he could do was to give him a chance.

“I think… I wouldn’t mind that, Van,” he answered bashfully. “So, yes, I will join you for the tournament.”

The corners of Van’s lips lifted, and he dared a hopeful, though furtive, glance at Victor. The copper-haired boy had flushed rather becomingly. Then he remembered the other reason he had come over. Unfolding his arms, he walked into the room and handed the bundle of papers to Victor. “It took a while longer than I thought it would, but… here you go.”

Perplexed, Victor took the thick wad from him and riffled through it. His breath caught in his throat when he realised what it was. They were the notes from his undergraduate course, mostly typewritten, and with diagrams hand-drawn to near perfection in Van’s surprisingly neat handwriting. Tears filled his eyes when he realised how much time Van must have taken to copy the notes out of his soiled notebook and file.

“I apologise if there are mistakes. The stuff is really hard to understand,” Van said. “I checked them twice, but you might want to see if I made any errors, because some parts were really smudged–”

Victor put the sheaf of papers down and ran over to Van. He threw his one good arm around him and sobbed, “Thank you! You don’t know how much this means – I cannot thank you enough – oh God, Van, you must have spent so much time on this…” Tears were streaming down his face, and he wiped at them hurriedly – he didn’t want to dirty Van’s shirt – but he found himself almost crushed to Van’s chest as the blond held him. Then, a soft kiss landed on his temple, and he gasped in surprise at the tender gesture. When he finally managed to pull away, the violet eyes looking at him were overwhelmingly gentle.

“Well… uh… there was only so much I could do on that beat-up old com,” Van finished rather unnecessarily, and Victor barked out a laugh in the midst of his tears. Beat that, Impey, Van thought triumphantly.

Eventually, Victor’s sniffling ended. When he looked over at Van again, the blond was looking rather smug, and he couldn’t resist goading him a little. “So… uh… if I didn’t say yes to your earlier request, you would hold on to these and not give them to me?”

“What? No!” Van retorted immediately, cheeks burning. “I mean, I’ve no use for these notes, so why would I – wait you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

Victor chuckled – Van was surprisingly adorable when he was flustered. He held up his good hand in surrender. “Van. Thank you… this means a lot… and the answer is still yes – I will go out with you.”

Then it was his turn to flush when Van caught hold of his left hand and brought it to his cheek. “I’ll look forward to Saturday then,” Van said, before brushing his lips over his knuckles. Victor inhaled sharply at the sensation and closed his eyes. Then the warmth on his hand was gone, and when he opened his eyes again, Van had left the room. He shuffled dazedly back to his desk, and found himself tracing the hand-drawn diagrams from Van’s notes more than actually processing any of the information Van had so painstakingly typed out. He smiled to himself – he was certainly looking forward more than he had thought he would to the coming Saturday.

***

Seated in the stands, Victor chewed on his lip as he watched Van’s opponents clear the rapid-fire stage of the air pistol event. The competitors were kneeling on the ground with five targets lined up before them, each placed 25 metres away. There was a graceful poetry to their motions as they fired a series of gunshots across their line of sight from the nearest target to the farthest. The scores were calculated down to the closest millimetre, so merely hitting the target was not good enough. Van would have to place within the top six in the field of twenty-four competitors if he was to move on to the semi-finals. So far, twelve of the competitors had already made their shots.

Then, it was Van’s turn to enter the field, along with three other competitors. Victor watched as the blond went through a series of motions in preparation – so single-minded was he that he completely ignored the spectators and merely focused on the targets right in front of him. The signal for the competitors to take their marks went off, and Van went down on one knee, raised his pistol, and faster than Victor could blink, the five targets were hit in succession. The crowd seated on the stands suddenly roared in astonishment, and Victor looked over to the scoreboard to see all five circles lit up – a record for that day as all the targets had been hit. Victor barely refrained from jumping up and down on the spot. Most of Van’s competitors had hit only three targets within the acceptable range, and only a few were able to hit up to four. With five targets hit, Van was now at the top of the table, and he only needed to wait till the very end to see where his eventual ranking would be. Unless six others were able to repeat his feat, he would be a shoo-in for the next stage. He saw Jimmy Aleister, whom Van had introduced to him as his coach, giving Van a thumbs-up before they moved off to his next competition area.

Van’s next events were trap and skeet shooting, so Victor got off the stands where the pistol events were still ongoing and made his way over to the skeet field. From behind the safety of the barricades, he observed the competitors that were already at work. Coloured clay discs exploded in midair when the hits were accurate, and each competitor was to hit 25 targets. Some of the more spectacular hits came when a pair of targets were fired from two different houses at different levels, and the crowd would burst into appreciative applause whenever the marksman was able to clear both successfully. From where he was, he heard people within the crowd of spectators debating the difficulty levels of trap and skeet shooting. It seemed that it was quite a divided sport – the skeet lovers thought that trap was a beginner’s sport, while those who loved trap argued that skeet shooting was too predictable, and that trap was the true road to mastery. Uncertain about what they meant, Victor merely thought that Van was incredible for being able to do well enough at both to compete at the regional level with the best marksmen in the zone.

Van was scheduled to clear his skeet event first. With him was his beloved shotgun – the gift he had from his father, and when it was his turn, he loaded the shells swiftly and raised it to his shoulder in a motion so smooth one would have thought that he had been taught to shoot from the moment he could walk. The clay targets disintegrated one by one in clouds of fine pink dust. Of the 25 targets, he only missed three, and they were only during the pair shots. Aleister nodded in satisfaction. It was a decent enough score for the qualifying – the semi-finals would be a lot more rigorous.

By the time that Van had changed his guns and moved on to the double trap event, Victor was beginning to see just how intense the sport really was. While the rotation for the skeet event was swift, the trap event required Van to stay in line with five other marksmen, and they shifted positions with each round. The targets were also fired from different heights whenever the competitor shouted “Pull!”, so it was a lot more unpredictable, and a missed target was quite a common occurrence. The crowd’s reactions were louder too – the alternate cheering and groaning were certain to distract the competitor’s focus besides adding psychological pressure to them. He sat bolt upright in his seat as he watched Van move from location to location, and it was only when all the rotations were complete that he was able to lean back and check the scoreboards to assure himself that Van was still within the top few. As for Van, he never made a backward glance into the stands, although he most certainly knew that Victor was watching him, until the final shot was fired. When he looked up, Victor stood up from his seat and waved, and received a small smile in return when Van finally spotted him.

Van was being debriefed by Aleister when Victor went over to meet up with him. He had done well enough to qualify with good standing for all his events, although there were several areas he still needed to work on where his precision was concerned. The competitive field was tough, and though he had managed to make it to the top six in each event, he would need to score within the top three for the regional finals if his scholarship was to be a guarantee. Victor waited patiently until Aleister was done, then when they were finally on their own, he stood awkwardly there, suddenly tongue-tied.

Van too, seemed more self-conscious than usual as he wiped down and packed away his equipment. Mindful of the clumsy tension that seemed to buzz between them, he eventually broke the silence. “Did you enjoy watching the events?” he asked, finally looking directly at Victor.

Victor was grateful that Van had spoken up first. “Yes… you did really great, Van.” He was actually bursting with pride from how well Van had done, but he just found it so difficult to articulate it. And he couldn’t just come right out and say that he had been cheering for Van in his own quiet way with every shot the marksman had taken. Eventually, he settled for, “I’m looking forward to watching you in the semifinals next.” Somehow, it seems enough for Van as well, because the blond’s lips curved upwards in a rare smile in response.

“So… ready to see the sights of London next?” Van asked. He just needed to load the equipment into Aleister’s car, then they were free to go off for the rest of the day and evening.

Victor’s bashful smile was answer enough.


	12. Push and Pull, Give and Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor’s anxiety gets the better of him. The date isn’t proceeding quite the way Van thought it would.

It was technically Victor’s first time going around London as a tourist, so Van decided to bring him around to most of the scenic spots. He wasn’t too keen about going to the museums just yet, though entries were free for many of them, as the chances were high that Victor would lose himself in just one museum for hours on end. He would reserve those for future dates, he promised himself. This first date… it should be more special.

Van hadn’t been sure what date etiquette would entail, but he was quite certain that it wasn’t meant to be like this: both he and Victor being awkwardly quiet instead of making conversation along the route. They were currently seated side by side on a city bus, whose route took them around some of the more famous sights like the Big Ben, Tower Bridge, and St Pauls’ Cathedral. Their thighs weren’t even touching, for Victor was sitting ramrod straight, fiddling with his cast and sling and seemingly determined to just stare outside the window the whole long way. A rosy blush suffused his cheeks, and he only darted shy glances at Van and nodded whenever the latter mentioned a particular landmark. Van was at a loss – he wished he could say more about each landmark, and he had spent some time working out the route to take so that Victor could see the best of what London’s architecture had to offer, but now that they were on it, things weren’t turning out the way he had thought they would. He didn’t actually know enough about the history of these places to tell him more about the sights he was seeing either, and he berated himself for not thinking this through more thoroughly.

_ Well, what did you expect? _ Van chastised himself.  _ It’s not like Victor could tell you more about these sights than you who grew up in London’s East End! And, it’s not like you could hold hands in public or cuddle him while seated with all these people around you… _ It was getting late in the afternoon too, and daylight was beginning to fade. Van decided that enough was enough. The next stop was Green Park, and they could walk over to Buckingham Palace from there, and perhaps it would give Victor and him something to talk about. When the bus reached the stop, Van said abruptly, “We’re getting down here.” Victor was clearly surprised at the sudden change, but hastily got off the seat to follow him as he alighted from the bus.

They passed the ornate gates of the park’s entrance, where Van gave a brief explanation that it was a shortcut to Buckingham Palace, and they continued walking in silence for a while. Finally, Van could take no more and stopped at one of the rest benches at a relatively quiet spot. He sat down with his head in his hands while Victor settled nervously beside him.

After a while, Van muttered, “I’m sorry, Victor… I don’t know what you expected for our outing today, but I don’t think it’s turning out the way it’s supposed to be.”

For a while, silence ate the space between them, until Victor softly replied, “I did like the bus tour. I saw so much of London today.”

“Really? … I don’t know – you’re so quiet, and – I just know it’s not supposed to be like this!” Van ground out.

Victor was distressed. He had been too caught up in his own embarrassment about being so attracted to Van lately, for he just did not know how to give voice to all the emotions swirling within him, and now Van was upset all because of him. It was all his fault for making things awkward, and Van… he had tried so hard. Tentatively, he reached out and patted Van on his slumped shoulder.

“I’m sorry, too, Van,” he said. “You put in so much effort for our – ” his voice became very small, “date… and I’m the one who ruined it for us because I was struggling to find the words to say.” He gulped when Van sat up and his intense violet gaze was directed at him. “I just - I- I… I think imightlikeyoutoonow,” he stuttered.

Van’s eyes widened in comprehension, and he reached up to seize the hand that Victor had laid on his shoulder. Victor yelped and tried to pull his hand back, but Van held on. He was rewarded with the sight of Victor blushing furiously. “So the problem is…” Van began, “that you like me back?”

Victor nodded, still unable to meet Van’s eyes.

“And I still like you…” Van continued. “So where does that leave us now?”

“I-I don’t know!” Victor spluttered. “It’s the first time I feel this way! I’ve never been on a date before and just thinking about date-y things makes me… I don’t know how to say it, but I cannot – what must I expect? What do two boys do? Do we hold hands, and-and k-k-kiss…?” He began to hyperventilate and had to take deep breaths to calm himself down again.

Kissing was one of the things Victor was the most flustered about. The first kiss had been so vehement while the second kiss Van had given him on the temple just earlier in the week had been so tender and unexpected. Van seemed to always catch him off-guard, which was what unsettled him the most. He was someone who liked routine and predictability, and this was anything but.

Van regarded him quietly until his breathing began to slow down. Finally, he asked, “Is kissing you alright?” At Victor’s deer-in-the-headlights expression, he hurriedly corrected himself. “I mean, not necessarily on the lips.” He swiped his thumb over the back of the hand he was still holding. “Like here…” With his other hand, he reached out to cup Victor’s cheek, turning his face towards him, “Or here…” He drank in the sight of Victor’s flushed face, “or even on your forehead if you like.”

Victor was still refusing to look directly at him, so he released him, but decided to plunge ahead with his words. “You know… before you came into my life, everything was dull – I simply attended school and trained for my shooting club without understanding why it should matter, and just got by living from day to day.” He stared into the distance, where a shadowy copse of trees stood – a darkened patch not quite illuminated by the setting sun. “But when I got to know you, it was like everything was suddenly so bright, and in colour. I never felt so warm…” That ridiculous dream he had resurfaced, and it became clear to him all of a sudden. “You’re like sunshine, you know? I think Delly picked up on it right away. That bastard cat from hell wouldn’t let anyone close, but he let you pat him the moment you arrived. I was amazed that you got through to him immediately.” He felt heat beginning to rise in his own cheeks. “And you got through to me too, somehow. You’re the smartest, sweetest and best person I’ve ever met. I didn’t realise until some time later that I wasn’t just seeing you as a friend. Then it became harder and harder to deny what I was actually feeling, so I’m actually really glad to know that you like me back now.”

It had been a long confession, and Victor’s heart melted at the words. He knew that he had to say something in return, at least in reciprocation, though it was turning out to be so much more. He finally looked over at Van. “I wasn’t sure at first, because I thought we were just friends,” he began. “At first, I was a little afraid of you, because you were rough, but then I realised you could be gentle and I felt safe with you. I could see that you were trying not to be rough for my sake. When you first k—” he gulped – “kissed me, I freaked out, because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think two boys could be together, but you have been so kind, and you gave me the time and space I needed. And then you just helped me and helped me more, and when you typed out all my notes for me, I was so moved… I didn’t know what to say. And now I feel this pull – I don’t know why it happened, but I want to see you more. It is why I agreed to go out with you, but it is frightening – It feels like you are taking me to a place that I would never find on my own, although I know I will be safe with you. But I need time… can you wait for me to catch up?” He felt terrible – his own insecurities were such a wet blanket – but Van’s intensity was like fire at times and as much as he was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he was terrified of being burnt.

“If it is time you need, I will give it, but I must also say that you are braver than you think,” Van answered. “It took guts to stand up to Saint Germain like you did, you know? Even I can’t imagine myself doing that. Your courage seems to arrive when you need to take action for others, but maybe it is also time that you take some of that courage for yourself.”

Victor considered his words for a moment, then nodded and straightened his posture. “I think I am willing to t-try the kissing now,” he said, and Van’s eyes opened wide in sur “But can I be the one to kiss you instead?”

“S-sure…” Van croaked, and held still as Victor shifted his position to kneel beside him. The copper-haired boy placed his good hand on his shoulder for balance, then leaned in slowly. Van’s heartbeat pounded in his ears as the fair face drew closer, until the tender petals of Victor’s lips connected with his own in a chaste featherlight touch. It was tentative, and nothing like the passionate collision he had delivered during his first confession when he first crushed those soft lips beneath his. He felt the grip on his shoulder tense, then relax, as the mouth against his puckered and moved in a series of butterfly-like motions. It was a delightful and strange sensation, but it was gone all too soon when Victor drew back with a rosy blush staining his cheeks. They both remained where they were for a moment, then Van asked, “So how was that?”

“It was… nice,” came the mumbled reply. At least the kiss had been on Victor’s own terms. “I think I need practice.”

Van reached out and cupped the pink cheeks. “Then may I have my turn?” The jade-green eyes lined with ridiculously thick lashes opened and gazed directly into his.

A flicker of doubt rose within Victor, but he quashed it and nodded. His heart thundered as Van leaned in slowly, just as he had done, and then his lips were captured by Van’s smooth ones. Van was gentle, but he kissed more deeply than he did, and he found himself melting when his bottom lip was nipped lightly. He gasped when he felt Van suckling lightly at his bottom lip before it was laved lightly by his tongue, and he whimpered when the sweetness of the other boy’s breath entered his mouth. Van massaged his lips sensually between his for a few more moments, then released them with a soft pop.

“Slow enough for you?” Van asked, as he pulled away. There was a cheeky glint in his eyes that Victor had never seen before.

He nodded shyly, then said, “I can do the kissing for now.”

A grin crossed Van’s face. “I’ve seen you naked, you know.” He laughed when Victor shoved at him.

“Not until I’m eighteen at least!” Victor all but squawked, and Van caught hold of his hand.

He brought it to his cheek and kissed his knuckles. “I will wait, Victor,” he promised.

Smiling, he leaned forward and waited, then Victor moved as well, and their lips met once more time. It had been awkward before, but now it felt natural. It was plain and slow, but more importantly it was predictable, sensual, and perfect.


	13. Honesty Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Van receives an offer, but he needs to know where Victor stands.

They swung by Impey’s place on the way back home to retrieve Delly, for the redhead had agreed to look after the temperamental cat while they were out, and when they reached his apartment and rang the doorbell, they were surprised to hear a familiar barking sound. They heard some fumbling as something inside was knocked over, and then the door was flung open to reveal the breathless redhead holding Van’s ginger cat in one arm and restraining an overexcited corgi with the other.

Victor was the first to react. “Sisi!” he cried, as the dog danced happily on the spot with its – two forepaws? The dog now had a mechanical forefoot that replaced his missing one, and was straining to break Impey’s hold on him. Stepping forward, Victor retrieved Delly from Impey’s burdened arm, while Van caught hold of the corgi.

Impey stood up in relief, then realized something. “Wait, you guys know Sisi?”

Van offered a succinct explanation. “Victor was helping out at the animal shelter before you broke his arm.”

“I can’t believe we’ve missed each other this whole time,” Impey laughed. “I’ve been working on the prototype for his leg for months! It was just completed a week ago. And I kind of got attached to the little guy so he came home with me.” He looked around his messy living room ruefully. “I just didn’t quite expect how much trouble he’d cause me once he got used to having four paws again.”

Victor’s eyes grew round. “This is your prototype?” He stared in astonishment at the prosthetic foot, which moved almost exactly like a real paw. The transitions were virtually seamless. “Impey, this is amazing!”

"It is, isn’t it?” grinned Impey. “It’ll change the future of prosthetics for all human and animal kind.” He patted the dog’s head, and the corgi lay his ears flat as he panted happily in Van’s hold.

Delly mewled and wriggled in Fran’s grasp and when the copper-haired boy loosened his one-handed grip in surprise, he jumped down to the ground. The cat slinked over to Sisi and rubbed his head against the dog’s real forefoot, and the corgi wagged his tail in response. He bent down to lick the cat’s head, and to the surprise of the three boys, Delly bore the treatment patiently and even rolled over and batted gently at the corgi’s inquisitive nose.

Impey gawked at the sight of the two animals. “I tried to keep them separated all this while! Had I known that they could get along, I would have just put them together and saved myself all the trouble.” He indicated a fallen child’s gate lying across the entrance to a bedroom. Sisi had charged through it just before Van and Victor arrived. “This guy pushed that gate down just as I took Delly out of the cage. And –” he pointed accusingly at the cat, who blinked up at him most innocuously, “please take that hellcat away – he’s scratched up all my curtains and the sofa, not to mention shat all over the place, and I don’t look forward to explaining why to my parents when they’re back!”

Van tried to picture all these in his head and couldn’t help smirking. It seemed that Delly had got back at Impey in a way that he couldn’t. Good boy, he mentally commended, then scowled when Delly caught his gaze and hissed back at him.

***

For the next two weeks, the daily interactions of the young couple were a mix of blissful and awkward interactions, particularly when it came to helping Victor in the shower and bedtime. Victor had got better at his one-handed independence, and Van was only allowed to assist him with scrubbing down his back and arm while he handled the rest himself with relative ease. He also insisted that they continue to sleep in separate bedrooms, though a stolen kiss that caused the younger boy to blush every time was now incorporated into their nightly routine. Van took most of this in stride, knowing that it was up to Victor to dictate the pace of their blossoming relationship, though he personally would have liked much more intimacy between them, but he had promised Victor time, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. For the moment, he was at least content to have what he had.

A phone call from Aleister threw an unexpected spanner into the works.

“Abraham, there was an Olympic scout present during the regional qualifiers. He wants you on the youth team for Air Pistol, and he told me he would that he would personally oversee your training for the shotgun events as well,” Aleister’s tinny voice rang through his phone with no small amount of enthusiasm. “It’s a golden opportunity, and if all goes well, you can represent our nation by next year. You must go for it!”

“Huh…” Van was speechless. He knew he had done well at the regionals, but competing at the international level was something that had never crossed his mind before. He knew what this would mean for his future as an athlete, and for his family, and there was no good reason for him to turn down this offer. Yet another part of him resisted – he had only just got together officially with Victor. The time they had had together was so short, and this would warrant changes on an unprecedented level for him…

Eventually, he asked quietly, “Must I move?”

“That’s for certain, my good boy! The facilities are down in Surrey, and it wouldn’t make sense to commute for over two hours all the way there from where we are on such a regular basis. Your training hours will be-”

“How long do I have?” Van asked, cutting Aleister off.

“What-?”

“How long before I must say yes or no?”

“What do you mean, ‘no’? Are you out of your mind, Abraham? The scout said he’d wait two weeks, no more, and -”

“I’ll tell you next week,” Van said, and ended the call. Almost immediately, the mobile phone buzzed again, but he cancelled the call and shut his phone off.

Victor’s cast would be removed next week. Till then, he had a lot to think about.

***

When the day came for Victor to finally remove his cast, Van accompanied him to the sick bay after lessons were over with Impey in tow. Victor was practically glowing with anticipation - he had been looking forward so much to regaining his mobility. Nurse Cardia greeted them with a radiant smile, and Van could not help but roll his eyes at Impey’s obvious delight.

She took out the cast cutter and demonstrated to Victor how the vibrating saw would not cut his skin, before setting the blade to the cast. The boys all watched in fascination as the blade cut effortlessly through the hard, then soft layers, but Van suddenly became aware of a terrible smell emanating from the area that had been hidden away for so long. His stomach churned when the cast was finally peeled away, and he stared in both horror and fascination at the flaky skin that was revealed. He quickly looked over at Victor, whose face seemed to be turning as green as his eyes. Next to him, Impey was also staring, while clapping a hand over his mouth as if trying to physically stop himself from saying anything out loud. Cardia gave Victor a sympathetic smile as she took a soft damp cloth to sponge his arm clean, wiped it dry, and then smeared a glob of unscented lotion over the area.

“It will take a few days before it starts to look and smell normal again,” she told him, before teaching him some light exercises he could do to regain the strength and range of motion he used to have with the arm. Van mentally took note of the exercises as Victor stretched his arm out cautiously – it was stiff and sore, but the ache was dull at most, and as Cardia had said, it was simply a matter of time. After reviewing the exercises once more, the group headed out the door, but Impey suddenly doubled back, saying that he wanted to talk to Cardia for a bit. Bemused, they agreed to wait for him at the school gate. They had just about reached the gate when Impey caught up with them, looking visibly upset.

“What’s got your goat?” Van said when he saw his expression.

Impey sighed. “So… I worked up the courage to tell her how I felt about her. She laughed and said that she was flattered, but that I was too young – come on, guys, is five years really that big of a diff? And then she said that she was already seeing someone. Well I guess that someone as hot as she is wouldn’t be available anyway, but I thought I had a chance.” He kicked a pebble and watched it bounce away. “Well… at least she let me down nicely.”

Van narrowed his eyes. He was privy to the knowledge that Cardia was actually in a relationship with Victor’s 25-year-old English teacher, Mr Arsene Lupin, but the romance was likely a clandestine one because Cardia’s younger brother, Finis Beckford, was still a student at the school, though he would be graduating soon. He doubted that Finis himself even knew, but he had never got along well with Finis anyway, so he had seen no point in telling him anything. After all, the two involved were consenting adults, and he hadn’t seen them doing anything scandalous either. They had merely been out for a walk holding hands when Van saw them that once on his way back home from shooting practice. Even so, he weighed his options for a moment, wondering if he should tell Impey what he knew.

“I think you’re really brave, Impey,” Victor spoke up. “And you’re an amazing guy. The girl who has you next time will be very lucky.”

Impey took a deep breath, then his usual bright smile was back on his face. “Well, hey, at least I can move on now! Like me Da always says – be like a tree in winter – they have a knack for letting things go, but life goes on living. Watch out, world. You’d better be ready for what Impey Barbicane has in store for you.” He struck a haughty pose, and Victor’s silvery laughter filled the air between them.

It was clear to Van that Impey would be alright, so he held his tongue. He had to admit that the redhead had an honesty about him that was quite admirable. He was authentic and free with his emotions in a way that he wished he could be. He looked over at Victor, who was now chatting excitedly with Impey about visiting them again later with Sisi so that the two animals could have a playdate.

Honesty… Since Aleister’s phone call, he had held himself back. His coach had sent him dozens of furious messages, but he simply blocked the notifications – he had told him after all that he would give him an answer that week. Yet, despite spending more time than ever with Victor, he had restrained himself. The other boy seemed none the wiser, and if anything, he seemed grateful that he had not been overly demonstrative to him. Van knew that Victor would most likely tell him to go make a brighter future for himself, but he needed to know for certain if the younger boy felt strongly enough for him to still be there upon his return. Like it or not, he would have to have a talk with him that evening.

***

After a satisfying dinner and the departure of their guests – Impey had outdone himself this time, both to celebrate Victor’s freedom from the cast as well as to prove to himself that he was just as awesome as he claimed – Victor could finally shower on his own, and luxuriated in the free range of motion he now had. He paid special care to the damaged skin over his arm, cleaning it thoroughly and patting it dry as best as he could. He exited the shower and headed straight for the guest room, still towelling his hair. He squeaked when he realized that Van was already inside, sitting on the desk chair and staring directly at him as he walked in.

“V-Van! What are you doing here?” he asked, holding a hand to his heart.

“I need to tell you something,” Van said, indicating that he should take a seat too.

Victor quizzically sat on the edge of his bed, wondering why Van looked so serious. The blond had always been stoic in demeanour, but he seemed especially grave this time. He pulled the towel off his head and waited for Van to continue.

“I’ve been scouted,” Van began, “for the Youth Olympics next year.”

Victor’s heart, which had just slowed down, began to speed up again. Van – an Olympian? He was going to take one of the biggest steps in his sporting career, and Victor couldn’t be happier for him. “That’s wonderful news, Van!” he exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you!” But Van was holding his hand up.

“If I take up the offer,” Van continued, “I won’t be here anymore, Victor.”

The smile that had lit up on Victor’s face froze. No longer here? What did Van mean? He stared at Van uncomprehendingly as the older boy got up from his seat, crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to him. The blond took both his hands into his, and began running his thumbs over his knuckles.

“The training will intensify,” Van said softly. “And it won’t be at the current range I’m at. They want me down at Surrey – it’s two hours away by train and bus, and Aleister says it won’t make sense for me to continue staying here, so I’ll have to move.”

Victor stared at the hands clasping his, feeling his chest becoming tight. He blinked furiously – when did his eyes start feeling hot? “When – must you leave?” His voice was unusually taut, and he coughed lightly to clear his throat.

“I don’t know yet,” said Van. “I told Aleister that I’d let him know by this week whether I’m going to take up the offer.”

Victor forced a smile. “Of course you must, right, Van? There’s no reason to say no. This is a one-lifetime chance.” Why was his chest hurting so much though? He wanted to rub at it, but his hands were currently being held captive by Van’s. He tugged lightly at one, but Van was not letting go. He looked up, only to see Van’s violet eyes boring into his.

“I do have a reason,” Van stated. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Victor’s breath caught in his throat. “Please, no, Van. You cannot give this up just because of me.”

Van’s voice was steady. “I’ll be honest with you about why I want to stay here. We’ve only just begun, and I’m afraid that if I go now… then, you won’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“I’ll wait for you too,” Victor protested. Tears were beginning to well up. He pulled his hands forcefully away from Van’s grip, and swiped the back of his hand furiously across his eyes. His chest heaved with the effort of just breathing.

“I can’t be sure of that.” Van looked away, anguish plain in his features as his empty hands dangled in his lap. “I let you set the pace, but beyond a few kisses there’s been nothing between us. I’ll come right out and say it, Victor. I love you. I just don’t know if you feel the same, and until I know that you do, I cannot leave you behind just like this.”

Love! Victor was stunned – he liked being with Van well enough, and was well aware of the blond’s attraction to him, but it was the first time that the word had actually been said between them. He was certainly drawn to the older boy, but he had never stopped to consider if his emotions ran deep enough to call it love.

Or did it? The thought of Van leaving punched a hole in his chest – Van had been with him almost all the way since the time he had first come over, scared and lonely from Switzerland, and it had only been because of Van that he had been able to find his place in this new school. He had boldly confronted Saint Germain too because Van had become so important to him – he just could not imagine how devastated he would have been if the blond had lost his scholarship back then. But the other boy was now intending to give up his bright, bright future for mediocrity just because of him? It would not do!

“You’re an idiot,” he choked out. “It hurts, more than you think, for me to tell you to go. But I must – this is your future we’re talking about!” Couldn’t Van see? “I won’t forgive you if you don’t do this for yourself!” he cried.

“Do you love me back, Victor?” came the quiet question.

Why… why did Van have to insist on an answer right then? He needed time to process this. “Please, Van… I cannot give you that answer right now because… I really don’t know what it is.” His heart constricted when he saw Van’s expression turn stony. “I’m so sorry… please, just give me a little time to understand what is going on within me, and please don’t turn down that offer until – until I can give you a proper answer.”

It wasn’t what Van truly wanted to hear, but he knew when enough was enough. He nodded silently and got off the bed. “I’ll wait for your answer, Victor,” he said, then exited the room, closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t until the tears spilled over that he realised how long he had been staring at the simple barrier that now separated them, and how much he missed the touch of Van’s lips upon his own.


	14. Leave it to Impey!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: The genius engineer is smarter than you think.

Impey was surprised when Victor approached him at the first recess the next day without his constant brooding shadow. "Where's your other half?" he jokingly asked, only to regret it the moment he saw Victor's face fall.

"Van... isn't here," he said softly. He cast his eyes to the ground. "I think he's avoiding me now."

"I find that hard to believe. The guy's smitten with you," Impey rejoined.

"You could tell?" Victor was astonished. He was quite sure that they had not acted in any couple-like ways in front of Impey. How did the redhead know?

"I could tell the day he punched my nose," Impey declared. "You, on the other hand... I guess it took a while, eh?"

"I had no idea," Victor said. Just how oblivious had he been? Even now, he could not tell apart his emotions. "Impey... I hope you won't be upset when I ask you this, but how did you know so quickly that you were in love with Cardia?"

"Love?! Eh... that wasn't love," Impey laughed. "It was infatuation at best. I got over it within a day."

This was no help at all. Victor was on the verge of despairing. "How do you know then... what love feels like?"

Impey's grin faded. "Did Helsing say something to you?"

Victor spent the better half of the break recounting what had happened between Van and him. He told Impey everything that had happened, from the time Van made his hasty confession to what had occurred the previous evening. Impey proved to be a considerate listener, only interrupting him every now and then to clarify what he was saying, since his control over the use of expressions was still somewhat unwieldy. After everything was out, Impey shook his head.

"You know, it sounds like you just went with the flow of things for the sake of not angering Helsing. He's a very intense person, and whatever you may feel now... he kind of overwhelmed you with all of those feels without giving you the space you needed to process all of it. Some time apart might actually be a good thing for you two right now."

"But Impey, I don't even know what the difference is between all these 'likes' and 'loves'. I do like Van, but I don't know if it's deep enough to count as love... I know the love of my family, but it's not the same... it's not like I think Van is my brother because..." he blushed, "well, I don't kiss my brothers – "

"Stop stop stop stop stop! I don't need that much visual, thank you Victor..." Impey groaned. He took out his mobile phone and began sorting through his music playlist, picking out a few. "Look, I've got some songs here that reflect all those 'likes' and 'loves' and everything in between and I'll just send you the links to all of them, alright? Go listen to them when you're in a nice and calm mood later today, and then let me know which one reflects the way you feel the best. I'll guide you from there." At Victor's distressed look, he stuck out a finger and booped him on the forehead. He grinned when the younger boy made a sound of protest and rubbed at the spot while staring at him in shock. "Try not to let your head get in the way of things here." He struck his fist against his chest. "You've got to feel. Skip the songs that don't feel right. Stay on the ones that do. Comprendre?"

Victor's mobile phone was suddenly bombarded by a series of links that Impey sent to him. He could only nod in acquiescence. Impey winked at him.

"Trust me, I've got this. Go sort out that pretty head of yours as soon as you can." He left Victor standing there staring at his phone, and told himself that he also had to look for Helsing before school was officially over for the day. He had a piece of his mind to give.

***

Impey eventually found Van at the edge of the school field staring off into space during the lunch period. He charged over and skidded to a stop just in front of him before remembering that he had never approached him on his own without Victor around, but he gritted his teeth - this was for Victor's sake and Van needed to hear this. That said, he had best be cautious.

"Helsing," he began. "I saw Victor today. He told me about the scouting offer you received."

Van barely cast him a glance.

"Barbicane." Quite literally the last person he wanted to see.

Undeterred, Impey pressed on. "And he said that you wanted him to tell you if he loved you back, because his answer would affect your decision to stay or go. He was quite confused and upset, you know."

"What goes on between Victor and me isn't any business of yours," came the listless reply.

Impey was scandalised. "How can you say that? You do realise how disoriented he is about this whole thing, don't you? He's only fifteen for crying out loud. He's still got so much to figure out!"

Van merely made a lethargic shrug and looked away. Impey was quite disconcerted. Van Helsing had always been a force to reckon with. This version of him – he looked like he was just a shell of the fiery person he had always known.

"He merely had to figure out if he felt the same as I did," he muttered.

It took a lot to make Impey Barbicane lose his temper, but he was at his limit. In two strides, he was right in Van's face and snatching hold of his collar. Hauling him up, he bellowed, "You're a damned selfish arsehole, you know that? What do you expect him to do? He can't speed up his emotions here! He doesn't even know what stage of attraction he's feeling towards you, and no matter what, it isn't fair to pin your decision on what he says!" The icy violet-blue eyes were wide in startled surprise, but he was relieved to finally see a spark of fire ignite within them at his words.

"You think I don't know that?" Van gritted out. "I've been waiting and waiting, and now this comes along – If I'm not around, what's he got left to hold on to? We've only just begun, and this is ripping us apart even before we've had a chance to properly start!"

"It's your own bloody future we're talking about, Helsing! We don't know if you're going to come back a medal winner if you go, but if that first step isn't even taken, that isn't even an option to begin with. If you stay, what then? And if you win his heart, so what? Will Victor ever be happy, knowing that because of him, you denied yourself that chance?"

Van went limp in his grasp, defeat clear in his posture. Impey let go of him, but continued to hold his gaze. "Think about it, will you? If Victor were offered a chance to go university right here, right now, this instant, to apprentice under some Nobel prize winner, would you hold him back?"

"Of course not..." Despite his words, something wilted within Van at the thought of letting Victor go. _It hurts, more than you think, for me to tell you to go... I won't forgive you if you don't do this for yourself!_ The words that Victor had said resounded in his mind. He came to a sudden realisation. Whether he knew it or not, Victor had felt pained at the thought of their separation. There had been a level of reciprocation, but he had been too caught up in his own pain to recognise Victor's. The answer had been there all the while.

He turned abruptly. "Thank you, Impey. You're a good friend. Take care of him for me."

"What? Hey! Helsing! Don't just leave! What are you intending to do?" Impey demanded, following hotly on his heels.

"I'm going to call Aleister. And then... I'll talk to Victor."

***

Carly Rae Jepsen - 'I really like you'... I may as well start with this one, mused Victor to himself as he settled down at the school library during lunch break. He had laboriously taken down all the song titles and the corresponding artistes' names on a sheet of paper he had ripped from his notebook, so that he could cross out the songs that he did not connect to and tick off the ones that did. He would show the list to Impey later. He plugged the headphones in and waited as a slow instrumental led to a bright pop tune with a catchy melody. He listened to the first verse, trying to understand the lyrics as the song piped through his headphones.

"... Late night watching television, but how'd we get in this position? It's way too soon, I know this isn't love... But I need to tell you something. I really, really, really, really, really, really like you, and I want you, do you want me, do you want me too?"

It was a cheerful enough song, but it did not quite reflect how he was really feeling. He suspected that it was something that went somewhat deeper. He scanned the playlist again. 'Shape of You' by Ed Sheeran was next... a strange title, but how bad could it be? He shrugged and skipped the rest of Carly Rae's song, and was greeted by a rhythm-driven alternative pop tune sung by a male singer. He wasn't quite able to follow the first verse as the singer's words were going rather too fast for him to catch, but regardless, he decided to listen at least till the first chorus. To his relief, the lyrics became more understandable as the song progressed.

"...I'm in love with the shape of you... We push and pull like a magnet do... Although my heart is falling too, I'm in love with your body! And last night you were in my room, and now my bedsheets smell like you. Every day discovering something brand new... I'm in love with your body! Oh I oh I oh I..."

This definitely wasn't it! Victor yelped mentally, and immediately ripped his headphones off while staring at his mobile phone in horror. He felt his face burning – such lewd lyrics... how could anyone sing them with a straight face? He was becoming quite afraid of listening to the rest of the songs on the playlist – Impey must have rather odd tastes when it came to music, and he cautiously scrolled down the list, avoiding any titles that seemed particularly suggestive.

After eliminating the more suspicious titles, the next song on the list was REO Speedwagon's 'Can't Fight This Feeling'... he debated skipping this song for a moment because he wasn't sure what kind of 'feeling' it was referring to, but he decided to give the song a chance. He was pleasantly surprised to hear an old-fashioned piano accompaniment, followed by a clear tenor voice that began singing.

"Oh, I can't fight this feeling any longer, and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow. What started out this friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show. I tell myself that I can't hold out forever, I said there is no reason for my fear. 'Cause I feel so secure when we're together... you give my life direction, you make everything so clear..."

Victor sat back in his seat as the lyrics washed over him. The clean voice reflected so clearly all the emotions that had been swirling within him. Truly, he felt deeply for Van – He did not know how to describe it, but he cared for him and he could tell it was beyond the level of an ordinary friend. It wasn't even like that of a best friend either – he felt such a connection with Impey, but with Van, there was always an element of mystery and thrill that made his heart race whenever he looked over at the blond. He wanted to be with him – he had to admit that a part of him desired each stolen kiss to deepen despite his own resistance, and that pain he had felt at the thought of being apart – it went even deeper than what he felt being separated from his own family. Perhaps, he thought, this is what love feels like. He would ask Impey about it later on.

"'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore... I've forgotten what I started fighting for. And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door... Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore..." The song came to an end, and he exhaled long and deep as he put a big tick next to its title on his list. He still had quite a long way to go.

***

After school, Impey found Victor waiting for him at the usual spot they always met before heading over to Van's. Due to the differences in their timetables, the blond would have left an hour ago, so it was unsurprising to find Victor alone. He seemed somewhat more grounded than he had been earlier that day, which Impey was relieved to see.

"Did you listen to those songs I sent you?" Impey asked, and Victor nodded shyly and handed him his handwritten list. Impey studied the list of shortlisted titles, which gave him an idea of where Victor stood – definitely beyond infatuation! "Well now... did you come to any realization?"

"I... I think I feel quite a lot but I don't know if I can call it love," Victor replied as he stared at the ground.

Impey considered him for a moment, then sighed heavily. "Look... it's really awkward for guys to talk about things like this, but I'll do this for you. I've got two questions for you. One, what do you like about him?" He didn't think anyone could blush that quickly in response, but he pressed on. Victor had to face up to what he truly felt. "Give me a list of his best qualities."

"He – he's very kind and giving," Victor stuttered. "I know he seems like a rough person, but he did so much to help me... he redid all my university course notes and I know it must have taken him so long to do so, and he helped me every day when my arm was broken to – to – sh-shower- "He clapped his hands to his cheeks – they were flaming.

"I take it you actually liked him helping you there," Impey grinned mischievously. "So, does he have a nice body?"

"I-Impey!" Victor all but yelled. He covered his face but peeked out between his fingers and groaned when he saw Impey's roguish expression. The redhead even had the audacity to wink at him. "S-so what if he d-does?"

"Well... attraction's nothing without that physical connection, you know." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Go on, do you like the way he looks?"

"He... I... I guess he looks – nice!" the younger boy squeaked.

"Just... nice?" Impey echoed.

"He- he has nice eyes!" Victor admitted, as his mind conjured up the image of the blond's sharp facial features and piercing violet blue eyes. He had become hyperaware of being subject to that gaze each time the blond looked at him, and he had always been afraid of meeting Van's eyes for fear of drowning in the intensity they seemed to promise. And Van's lips... that stern mouth had been surprisingly gentle since that confession in the park, and he had actually enjoyed each kiss the blond had stolen from him. Then his mind wandered traitorously to his memory of the athlete's sculpted physique, wet from the spray in the cramped shower, and to his consternation, he felt another part of his body react. He tried desperately to think of something else to divert his train of thought. "He has nice glasses too!"

Impey's eyebrows rose. "Nice... glasses...?" Victor was looking unusually flustered for thinking about Van's glasses. He supposed they had an unusual enough pattern, or maybe Victor had a thing for people in glasses. He shrugged. At least he could be certain that Victor liked the way Van looked. To each his own. "Alright then, I think I've gathered enough for that one. Question number two."

"You already asked two questions!" Victor protested.

"Did I? Huh... I lost track. Well, this one's important. How does it feel when you think about him?"

Victor had no easy answer to that question – admitting everything was simply too embarrassing, but Impey was trying to help him sort out this entire whirlwind-induced mess and he had to at least give him something to work with. He decided that it would be easier to share what he physically felt.

"My stomach... it flutters," he began. "I feel funny... like I might throw up... and when he's alone with me I feel happy but also really anxious... I'm afraid I'll mess up in front of him."

"Afraid you'll mess up?" Impey was confused. As explosive as Van was, he didn't seem the type to take it out on Victor if the latter made any mistakes. For that matter, he was quite sure that Victor was probably the only one who could get away anything in front of Van. The younger boy was simply too much of a perfectionist to see this for himself. Impey shook his head. He would have to help Victor sort that one out. "Vicky... you're too hard on yourself. If anyone is going to mess up, it isn't you."

"But I messed up our first date!" Victor cried. "And Van... he tried so hard to make it work."

Impey held up a hand. "But it turned out alright in the end, didn't it? Once you made it clear where you stood. And you know, it's the first relationship for the both of you. You can't expect to get it right on the first try." He looked kindly at Victor, who looked pitifully miserable. "And for that matter, I think Van feels enough for you to look past any mess you could possibly make. My own parents make mistakes all the time and they're always the first to forgive each other. Me Da says it's one of the things people truly in love do for each other."

Victor stared at him in amazement. "Errors – they're alright to be made in your family?"

Suddenly Impey was hit with the epiphany that this was the root cause of Victor's never-ending insecurity. "Vicky... are you saying that you were never allowed to make mistakes growing up?"

"There are... expectations? I'm the oldest son," Victor attempted a smile, but it fell flat. "I've always been told to give my best... and my parents... they don't know about Van and me... being together." The words Van had shouted at him all those weeks ago came back in full force. _Stop trying to be such a fucking saint everytime!_ He shuddered. He dreaded to think about what his parents would say if they found out that their eldest – the genius, the pride and joy of their family, the perfect son – was gay.

Impey was silent as he thought about what Victor had revealed to him. The younger boy needed guidance that he alone could not give, and had issues that would require time to address. He wondered if he could talk his parents into taking Victor under their wing.

"Vicky, let's swing by my place instead of heading straight for Van's. I think it's time you met my folks."


	15. New Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Van meet Impey’s parents.

On their way to his home, Impey sent a quick message to Van Helsing: ‘Vicky’ll be at my place. He might stay the night.’ He didn’t know if either of his two friends were in the right frame of mind to talk to each other yet. Van Helsing had to settle his business with Aleister first, and as for Victor, he hoped that his parents would be able to help. Speaking of which…

“Hey, Vicky. Just to prepare you here… my parents… they aren’t quite the regular couple,” Impey ventured as they approached his apartment doorstep. “Just… well. Be prepared.” Frankly he didn’t know how Victor would react, but he felt that he should let the facts speak for themselves.

As his key turned in the lock, a raucous barking arose from within, and Impey braced himself to catch the cannonball of lively corgi that would launch itself at the entrants the moment the door opened. Predictably, Sisi sailed straight for his knees, but he scooped up the wriggling bundle of fur and deposited him unceremoniously into the arms of his nonplussed best friend.

“Da! Pa! I’ve brought a friend home!” he yelled, pushing the front door open all the way. Victor stepped cautiously inside, kicking off his shoes as Sisi panted happily in his arms.

A well-kept man with a head of hair as red as Impey’s poked his head out of one of the rooms. “Hi son, and hi, son’s friend.”

“Da, this is Victor,” Impey said, gesturing for the copper-haired boy to take a seat on the couch. “Where’s Pa?”

“He’s got the morning shift at the café, but he should be arriving home anytime now.” The red-haired man took a seat in an armchair, studying Victor curiously. “My son has told us much about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”

“Uh… thank you for having me here, Mr Barbicane,” Victor said shyly, stroking Sisi’s back as the corgi settled contentedly into his lap. He was rather confused. If Impey’s father was here, who was this Pa they were talking about? He looked around the living room, and a family portrait caught his eye. It was of a very young Impey, who was smiling with his two front teeth missing, sitting on the lap of an attractive woman while a younger version of this man before him stood proudly behind them. It took pride of place on a mantel above the fireplace. He wondered where Impey’s mother was.

“Please, just Jules will do. I’m very sorry that he ran you over back then, but I’m glad to see that you have become good friends now.” He saw where Victor’s gaze had fallen and smiled wistfully. “Impey looks more like his mother did, but his hair’s all mine.”

“Is Mrs Barbicane not home?” Victor asked, not realising that Jules had spoken in the past tense.

“Ah… she passed away when Impey was six,” Jules said, and Victor tried to apologise for his mistake, but the red-haired man smiled and gave a dismissive wave. “It’s alright, we have it good now.”

There was the sound of a key being inserted into the front door’s lock, and Sisi sat up in Victor’s lap, his ears pricked with interest, but made no further move. It opened, and a muscular, silver-haired man entered. The corgi’s undocked tail began to wag a mile a minute, thumping against Victor’s thigh like a speeding metronome.

“Hey Pa!” greeted Impey. He winked at Victor. “That’s my other dad.”

Other… dad? Victor stared uncomprehendingly as the other man crossed the room to greet Jules with a kiss on his temple, before turning to face him. “Well hullo… you are?”

“V-Victor Frankenstein,” Victor stammered. “I’m Impey’s friend.”

“Hullo, Victor. Luke here. Impey here’s told us loads about you. Reckon you’ve tried his cooking too, eh? Fellow’s got a real feel for the kitchen, and it’s all thanks to yours truly he’s got so good.” He reached out to ruffle the redhead’s hair, but Impey ducked away with a good-natured protest.

“Pa’s the one who taught me to cook since I was eight,” Impey piped up. “But all that aside, I’ve brought Vicky back with me ‘cause he needs… ah… a broader perspective.” Before he could continue, a loud hammering resounded on the door, and it was followed by the obnoxious chiming of the doorbell as it was rung continuously. Victor had to grab hold of Sisi tightly before the corgi leapt off his lap, and the excited dog began dancing in his lap, whining loudly to be set free. The tail was now whipping against his body with a furious intensity.

“Ah, I should have known that he would charge right on over,” Impey proclaimed, getting up to open the door. “Welp… may as well get it over with in the presence of everyone.” The two adults and Victor gawked at him as he strode over to open the door just as the hammering resumed, revealing Van Helsing standing there with his fist raised awkwardly in mid-air.

“Da, Pa, this is Van Helsing. Helsing, my two dads,” Impey reeled off as he presented the blond with a flourish. Van looked just as stunned as Victor had earlier, but quickly regained his composure and nodded politely at Impey’s parents before he was motioned to take a seat on the couch next to Victor.

Luke was clearly bewildered. “Alright, someone needs to tell us what’s going on here. Impey. What did you bring them boys back for?”

“Da and Pa, like you, these two are a couple. They’re still blundering around for the most part, so I thought you guys could knock a little sense into both of their pretty heads,” Impey said by way of explanation to his parents. He smiled encouragingly at Victor. “Tell them about what’s going on between you and Helsing, and about your family too.”

Victor realised the predicament he was in. Here he was, right in front of Van, and two men he had just met, and he was supposed to confess his entire life story? Even Sisi had ceased his frantic movements and was staring at him with his mouth open and tongue out in that panting grin dogs always wore. They were all waiting for answers from him. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, for the words choked in his throat. Then he felt a warm hand cover his own, and he looked up. Van had placed a steadying hand over his, and to his surprise, the blond began to speak first, letting go of his hand after a light squeeze.

He related how the two had met and how he had come to realise his feelings for Victor and described what had happened on the day he punched Impey. The two adults startled at the revelation that he had been the one to do so, but Impey hurriedly reassured them that all was forgiven, and it only was after that that Victor finally found the courage to speak up as well, stuttering through his explanation as he tried to paint Van in a more positive light. It was a good thing that the younger boy was holding on to Sisi, for it seemed that the warmth of the animal grounded him, and he began to speak more freely.

He told Jules and Luke how Van and Impey had both tried to make amends and how they had helped him, and how he had slowly but surely begun to reciprocate Van’s feelings. He told them about the training offer that Van had received, and how he had not known how to respond when Van asked him how he really felt about him, since relationships were a new thing for him. He also revealed his fears about his parents finding out that he was in a relationship with a boy. He broke down at that point, and Sisi whined at Victor’s obvious distress and pushed his nose up against Victor’s face, trying to lick his tears away.

Sensing that there was a bigger issue underlying all of this, Jules gently asked him to tell them more about his family back in Switzerland. As the tale unfolded, it became clear to all who were listening that Victor’s family had been a loving one, but their expectations of this precocious and highly sensitive boy had unintentionally caused him to develop abnormally high levels of anxiety. Victor had been astute enough while growing up to know that the easiest path to take was to avoid failure at all cost. Consequently, he had told himself to never give his parents any cause for concern – at all times he was to be the role model whom his younger brothers could look up to, and his extraordinary brilliance in academics overshadowed every other aspect of his life.

Jules silently exchanged a look with Luke. He could tell that his partner also understood the issues that were plaguing Victor. As a parent, he knew that children should be praised and encouraged for their achievements, but Victor’s parents had unknowingly fueled their son’s anxiety with every accolade. As a result, their son had been driving himself relentlessly to keep doing better. In that endless quest for perfectionism, he had shoved all personal issues and insecurities aside, and had never learnt to take care of his emotional needs, nor to forgive himself for the mistakes he never allowed himself to make. And now that he was faced with an identity crisis where his sexuality was concerned, he had no idea where to proceed with it. It was clear why he had held back.

Luke stood up and clapped Impey on the shoulder. “Impey, come to the kitchen with me. I’m whipping up some snacks for our guests right now.” His tone brooked no dissent, and while Impey wanted to stay on to hear what his father had to say, he obediently followed his Pa into the kitchen to assist him with the food preparation. Once they were out of earshot, Jules regarded the two boys seated before him.

“Alright… so I have some thoughts about what you’ve both shared, but before I say anything, do either of you have anything to say to each other?”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, but the older boy broke the silence first. “Victor, I’m sorry… It was unfair of me to pressure you like that, but I want you to know that you are very important to me. I’m sorry that I didn’t see how much stress you were under, and now that I know what your family’s like, I understand better why you’ve been holding back.” He placed a hand on Victor’s knee as the younger boy looked back at him. “And as for the training, I called Aleister… I’m going ahead with it. You were right – it’s something I need to do for my own sake and it’s not fair to make that choice based on what your answer is.” He also cursed internally at the fact that Victor had shed tears again – after seeing him cry that first time, he had vowed never to let it happen again, and yet…

Jules nodded, satisfied that the older boy at least was clear about where he stood and the error of his ways. As for Victor, he looked visibly relieved after hearing Van’s words. The younger boy certainly needed some validation, given how anxious he was. “And you?” he smiled bracingly.

The copper-haired boy’s voice was soft. “I do like you, Van… very, very much. I want you to succeed in becoming an Olympian. I need time to know what love really is, but I promise you that I will wait for you so that I can give you that answer when you come back...” His breath caught when Van caught hold of his hand and squeezed it. He looked up into apologetic violet eyes.

“It’s good enough for me,” the blond said. As much as he would have liked to hear the words from Victor’s own lips, he wasn’t going to force his way through anymore. He would leave it all up to the younger boy from this point.

Jules nodded in approval. “Van Helsing, right? I’d like a few moments with just Victor, so would you be so kind as to help Impey and his Pa out in the kitchen?” Van’s expression was clearly quizzical, but he gave an acquiescing nod and headed towards the kitchen.

Once Van had closed the door behind him, Jules smiled kindly at Victor. “I’m sorry I sent him away, Victor, but I felt that I needed to talk to you alone for a bit. When you were talking about your family, I sensed that you weren’t taking care of your own emotional needs… and you’re very unforgiving towards yourself as well. The thing is, you don’t need to put this much pressure on yourself. You’re only fifteen, and honestly, it’s quite unfair that you’ve had to grow up as fast as you did just because of how smart you are. I think you need to cut yourself a bit of slack and give yourself permission to just be a kid.”

“Permission to be…” Victor tilted his head, “a kid?”

“Well… there’s a lot that people can only figure out when life happens to them, you know. Not everything can be gleaned from books. And for that matter, I speak as a parent here when I say that the love for a child should be unconditional. I’m sure your parents love you for who you are, and you don’t have to be a perfect son for them to do that either.” He ran a hand through his bright red hair, which Victor now saw had quite a few grey streaks in them. “The Good Lord knows that Impey’s given me more grey hairs than I can count with all the antics he gets up to, and I still love that kid to death. I can never be more grateful to my late wife that we had him all those years ago.”

“I’m sorry…” Victor began, but Jules shook his head.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for, Victor. But I’m telling you this because you seem to have the idea that you’ve had to earn your parents’ love for you and to never grieve them in any way. And while you’ve become the sweetest child ever, it really shouldn’t be like this. Why are you being the adult in your family? I’m sure your parents' love for you is unconditional, and if you were my kid, I’d tell you that it’s perfectly alright not to do well in everything… As a matter of fact, if you truly want to get anywhere in life, you’ve got to be willing to fail and be wrong. In fact, I’d even encourage you to fail more. Fail better.”

"Fail… better?” Victor wondered. He had never heard that such a thing was possible.

“Yes,” Jules declared. “Impey knows this well – that leg he made for Sisi – he went through a million iterations before he designed one that could work feasibly, and it took him countless more tries before he created that version you now see. He’s told me about how brilliant you are at science, you know, and I just know that you’re going to create something life-changing in the future if only you’d give yourself that space to do so. And that space … it must leave room for errors. The bigger, the better.”

Victor stared at Jules in amazement. What a radical concept this was – it would have been unthinkable back home. He felt a frisson of excitement travel up his spine. “I think… I would like to give that a try.”

“Good!” Jules smiled. “That leaves that one other thing I want to talk to you about… How sure are you about your… sexuality?”

Immediately, Victor flushed. “Uh… Van and I have kissed… and I like him very much… that means I’m gay, doesn’t it?”

"No, it doesn’t necessarily,” Jules stated. “Before you met Van, were you actually interested in anyone?”

Victor was mortified. He never thought there would come a day where he would have to reveal his innermost thoughts to someone he had only just met, but he felt that he could trust Impey’s father, who seemed very wise about how to deal with life. As for the question he had been asked… “Not really… I just focused on my studies. Van… he kissed me first, and I didn’t think before that that I could be gay. I mean, I’ve only ever seen men and women together… and I grew up thinking that someday there’d be some girl I’d want to marry. When that first kiss happened, I just kind of… blanked.”

The look Jules gave him was laden with empathy. “It’s not something you can just figure out over the course of a few weeks or months… For my part, I figured out that I was bisexual only many years later. You know, I was very much in love with Impey’s mother – I thought she was the love of my life, until I lost her to that car accident all those years ago… It broke me completely and I honestly didn’t know how to face the world without her. So there I was with a six-year-old to raise, and in trying to get back into the normal swing of things, I fell into disastrous relationships with one woman after another. It wasn’t until two years later when I met Luke that things just clicked… and he and Impey hit it off and he’s just been there all these years and it’s almost like we were made for each other. I hadn’t thought that I could be bi, but it’s what life has taught me about myself. So my point is… it might be somewhat too soon for you, or even for Van Helsing, to decide to commit to anything right now. You’re only fifteen, and you just like who you like at this point and figure the rest out later. Don’t feel pressured to give in to anything unless you truly feel ready. You’ll need time to work out where you stand, and as for him, we’ll see if distance truly makes the heart grow fonder, or if this is just a passing phase for the both of you.”

“Impey said something quite similar earlier. He gave me some songs to listen to. He said it could help me figure out what I was feeling. I showed him the list…”

“Songs, eh?” Jules grinned. “Well, we’ve got just the thing. I hope you can carry a tune.” He got off the couch and opened up a cabinet, revealing a machine that Victor hadn’t seen before. “What say you to a little karaoke?”


	16. More Than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions can speak louder than words.

"Oh ho, they've started up the karaoke machine!" Impey crowed as he exited the kitchen with a stack of homemade waffle sandwiches. Behind him, Van toted a plate filled with crumpets and Scotch eggs, and Luke filed in behind them with a glorious stack of freshly baked sausage rolls. Impey had been aghast when Van first entered the kitchen, but since Luke was there to direct them, he figured that nothing could go wrong. Van had only been allowed to wrap the hardboiled eggs in a layer of sausage meat, dip them in egg and coat them with bread crumbs before they were deep-fried by the master himself. What could possibly go wrong?

Luke was a karaoke enthusiast, and had introduced Jules to the joys of karaoke back when they had first got together. For that matter, he had won a couple of karaoke competitions, and there were songs that the couple always sang together. It was how Impey had come to know so many classics and songs of the '90s beyond the latest on the British Top 40. Many of those songs had been the same ones he had shared with Victor. The adults led the way, inputting songs by Queen, Aerosmith, U2 and Bon Jovi, among other classics. Impey selected songs by several of the boybands of the '90s, like Boyzone and Westlife, along with his current favourite, Ed Sheeran. Van was familiar with quite a few of these artistes – it was difficult not to, having grown up in Britain after all, but he declined to choose any songs for himself. However, he could not get away with not singing. The songs were to be put on a random mix, and whoever knew them would be tasked to sing at least a verse along with a chorus. Even Van could not get away from this treatment, and Impey already knew which songs he definitely wanted Victor to sing out loud.

The adults were currently belting out a raucous version of Bon Jovi's "It's My Life", and Victor, who was holding on to Sisi, watched in amusement as Impey and Van were roped into singing along to the very catchy chorus. Despite Van's initial reluctance, he seemed to be enjoying himself as he headbanged to the beat of the song. It was rare to see the usually uptight blond loosen up this way. Then Impey thrust the cordless mike into his face and Victor was forced to sing along as well for the final chorus. Sisi wriggled out of his lap and made his way over to Van, so he found himself holding on to the mike as the song ended and everyone else burst into spontaneous applause. As for Van, the blond seemed to realise how out of character he had behaved and had flushed a deep shade of crimson, and Victor inwardly snickered at how cute the blond looked when he was flustered.

A familiar piano melody came on, and Victor looked up to see that the REO Speedwagon song was now playing. Impey winked at him meaningfully, then motioned to his parents to allow him to sing this one on his own. He gulped. He had only just heard most of these songs that afternoon, but this was the one that had left the deepest impression on him. Then, he looked over at Van – the only one who hadn't heard for himself how exactly he felt, and he knew that he had to do this. His grip tightened around the mike, and he opened his mouth to sing. His crystal-clear tenor voice filled the room, which was now hushed, and seated across the coffee table, Van stared open-mouthed at him, his grip on Sisi becoming lax, as he poured his all into the soulful lyrics he was now enunciating. He kept his gaze fixed mostly to the lyrics scrolling across the tv screen, though he darted a few nervous glances at Van each time there was an instrumental break. Before he knew it, the song was over, and he limply lowered the mike as the adults and Impey applauded his singing.

Luke hit the pause button on the machine before the next song could load. "Now who would have thought we'd have another budding singer in our midst? That was beyond lovely, Victor." He looked over towards Jules, the affection in his eyes evident. "You took me right back to that moment that Jules and I officially began. This song was playing on the radio in the car, and we just looked at each other right then and knew that we were meant to be. Thank you for doing justice to it." He scrolled down the song list and selected another title, one that had originally been chosen by Impey. "But you know, it doesn't end there. We've got a new couple song now, and maybe one day, you'll be fortunate enough to find that it applies to you too."

A gentle piano accompaniment heralded the start of the next song, and Victor tore his eyes away from Van's face and turned his attention back to the screen. A black and white music video* featuring a group of five young men seated in a vintage car came on, and the karaoke maestro began his own solo. The lyrics sank into Victor's own being as the soulful voice filled the room.

"I don't know but I believe  
That some things are meant to be  
And that you'll make a better me  
Every day I love you

I never thought that dreams came true  
But you showed me that they do  
You know that I learn something new  
Every day I love you

'Cause I believe that destiny  
Is out of our control  
And you'll never live until you love  
With all your heart and soul"

He pointed right at Victor and winked, and he knew that that particular line had been aimed straight at him. The boy flushed. It was as direct a message as he could get about being willing to take risks in love – something he had been so afraid to do all this while. Then Luke turned to face Jules, who was watching him with an indulgent smile, and Victor felt a lump form in his throat as he witnessed the silent communication between the couple.

"It's a touch when I feel bad  
It's a smile when I get mad  
All the little things I am  
Every day I love you

'Cause I believe that destiny  
Is out of our control  
And you'll never live until you love  
With all your heart and soul

If I asked would you say yes?  
Together we're the very best  
I know that I am truly blessed  
Every day I love you

And I'll give you my best  
Every day I love you"

The piano accompaniment took the song to its quiet end as Luke crossed the room to sit beside his partner. There was so much love and acceptance that flowed between the adult couple that Victor found himself yearning for that connection to happen between Van and himself. He shyly turned his gaze to where Van was and saw the blond studying him intently as well, and he found himself unable to look away this time.

"Aughhhh!" Impey suddenly cried out, and the spell burst. Sisi ran up to him and began sniffing him all over, looking for the cause of his distress and barking madly all the way. Everyone stared in shock as the redhead flailed for a tissue and finally spat out what he had just put into his mouth. It was a bite he had taken of the Scotch egg – the only item that Van had had a hand in making. He frantically grabbed his drink and began chugging it down furiously as tears streamed down his face. Once he regained his composure, he pointed an accusing finger at Van, screeching, "You! What did you do to our Scotch eggs? And more importantly, how?! Luke was right there!"

Van crossed his arms defensively. "I only added some hot sauce to the sausage in the last batch of Scotch eggs I was doing. I've eaten them spiced before and the ones you were making were plain... besides, you guys were busy making the crumpets at the time, so I just grabbed the nearest hot sauce I could see and added a couple of dollops."

Luke looked like he was about to faint. "Not the Mad Dog 357 one, I hope?" It was the spiciest hot sauce in his kitchen and its ingredients included some of the world's hottest chilies. The smallest droplet could set one's mouth on fire. It had been a gag gift Impey had given him last Christmas and he had yet to find a recipe he could use it in, but he had always been always up for a challenge...

"Hmmm," Van shrugged, and looked away, not willing to say any more. He _might_ just have grabbed that one. It had already been opened anyway.

Jules smiled wryly. "Well now... is anyone up for a game of Russian roulette?"

***

They eventually decided to dump the Scotch eggs, since there was no telling exactly how many of them were now inedible. There was plenty of other food to go around after all, and after more karaoke and that splendid afternoon tea, Victor and Van gathered their things to leave, but not before thanking Impey's parents for their advice and hospitality. The couple had also discussed the possibility of taking over the responsibility of being Victor's guardian until he turned eighteen, and Jules said that he would look into the necessary paperwork to confirm his eligibility as a guardian to get that done. They even agreed to let Delly stay with them for the duration, since he could get along well with Sisi, though adjustments would certainly have to be made to make their home more cat friendly while accommodating one more person. Most importantly, Van felt reassured that Victor (and Delly) would be in good hands, and all that was left to do was to sort out his own packing in readiness for his own departure. If all went well, he was due to depart in a week's time.

They cut through a park as the sun began to set. "I can't help but wonder," Van said suddenly, "if I made a mistake kissing you back then... that day I punched Impey."

"Why do you say that?" Victor asked, clearly surprised by the admission.

"It's just that... you're so pure. It feels like I made you fall into darkness with this whole... gay business. And then, I was forcing you to admit if you felt the same... It wasn't fair to you at all, now that I've had time to think about it."

Victor was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke again, his voice was uncharacteristically firm. "What happened, happened already, Van. And Jules told me that just because we're together, it doesn't mean we're both gay, because that will take much more time to figure out. What matters is where we are now. I know that we are both very important to each other. Besides, just because I was raised to behave like this doesn't mean I am completely alright either." The words Jules had said to him earlier, and the message Luke had directed at him through the song had made it clear to him that he had to try something different. He hadn't been born an angel – it was time to shed the pretend wings and halo he had always thought he had and learn to be a human. To be willing to be wrong. To take risks. To fail. To fail _better_. "And I know that I am now ready to take a chance... with you. Will you teach me... how to fall – how to love?"

Van breathed out heavily, feeling the weight of Victor's words. He reached for Victor's hand, and unlike before, it was unresisting, pliant in his own, and he moulded it against his. "I'll catch you," he vowed. "I promise you, Victor, that I'll be there when you fall. I'm going to figure out this love thing as we go along too, so we'll learn together, alright? We've got the rest of our lives to work it out. I will not be able to physically be there with you all the way, but I'm just a call away, and I'll come back over when the schedule allows so that we can be together. Let's start with that first, shall we?"

"I meant," Victor's blush was barely visible in the dim light, "I might be ready to take that chance to be... physical... with you. Teach me to love... like that."

Did he hear Victor right? Van's hands shook this time as he studied Victor's flushed face. And he had only just come to terms with himself about being willing to wait! As much as his own raging hormones were screaming at him to take the next step, he knew that he had to be the responsible one. It was the right – and loving thing to do. "We... can't, Victor. We're both minors, and until we're both at least eighteen, it's against the law in this country. Even if your parents don't kill me, Impey's folks might... But it makes me very happy," he brought the hand he was holding to his lips, "that you offered. I promise you that I will wait for you... and now you must also allow yourself to do so."

It was his turn to be taken by surprise when in that space between light and shadow, as the street lamps flickered on to light up the park as the sun dipped below the horizon, soft lips suddenly covered his. Victor had thrown all caution to the wind, surging forward to meet his mouth, and he responded immediately, pulling the other boy's body against his as the kiss deepened between them. He felt it then – the reciprocation, the neediness, the desperation to not be apart if they could help it, and there, right there, was the depth of emotion that he had sought. When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, Van gazed at Victor in wonder, taking in the flushed countenance that conveyed the answer that the younger boy did not know how to express in words, but had been delivered all the same by the very lips he had wanted to hear it from.

Smiling quietly, Van held on to Victor's hand, and the rest of the walk back to his place passed in companionable silence. They had danced around each other all this while, but they had finally reached a stage where they could be honest with their own emotions and each other. They had each had to give up a little of their own beliefs to make things work, and they still had many things to figure out about what it truly meant to be in a relationship together, but they were no longer awkward with each other. With a promise now between them, he knew that things could only look up from here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The song Luke sings is "Every Day I Love You" by Boyzone. Please check it out. It's old but gold!

**Author's Note:**

> I created a Discord server for this ship; but there are channels available to discuss general Code: Realize stuff too. Come on board at https://discord.gg/ZjdXTtw


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